Harry and Millie and the Philosopher's Stone
by sovinnai
Summary: In his elementary school in Surrey, Harry is saved from Dudley by a new friend. This friend is named Millicent Bulstrode, and she soon is introducing him to a whole new world, a world of magic.
1. A New Friend

**I was having a major writing block on my other story, ****A Potter's Story****, and I had this plot bunny appear in my head at around Thanksgiving break. Due to exams and various other factors, (including having to get articles for, format, and publish a newspaper in less than two days) I haven't had time to do this until now.**

**I just thought of this story after reading the interesting series by ShadeDancer, ****Blood Prince****. In it, besides other interesting happenings, Harry and a girl Blaise Zabini are beaters for the Slytherin team.**

**I was thinking that that was a very interesting idea, and I started wondering how Harry could become a beater less AU way. I decided that the two most important things would be, firstly his general scrawniness, and secondly having a friend to act as beater.**

**Both of these could be accomplished without taking Harry away from the Dursleys. Instead, he could have a friend come to him.**

**I'm basically operating on the butterfly affect principle. Any tiny change can send huge ripples through the future. In this case, having Millicent Bulstrode start attendance at Harry's elementary school will lead to very large changes in the future. It starts out canon, and then when he is seven it will start being AU, and then will increase in differences from canon throughout the rest of the series. I want to do the whole seven books, but I don't know if I will have time.**

**Oh yeah, I apologize for any discrepancies from British culture in the story. I realize that they don't call first graders by the same name, but I'm not sure how the English school system works.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of its ideas.**

The scene was one that could be found in any school anywhere in the world. It was recess, and the seven and eight year olds of the first grade at the local elementary school in Surrey, England, streamed out of their classes after their first class of the school year, desperate for a break. Just as at any school, there was a pecking order on the playground, where the strong ruled and the weak could do nothing more than run from their tormentors. One of the weakest on the playground that day, a scrawny seven year old with messy black hair and broken glasses, was at that moment trying to run from a bully. He desperately scrambled over a small wooden fence, ran under a yellow slide and sprinted past a group of younger kids and girls waiting at the slides. Harry Potter was running from his cousin

But all of his efforts seemed pointless. Behind him, Dudley and his gang kept up with the running boy, making up for their lower speed pushing through people in the way without a qualm. The boy, seeing that he would soon run into a tall metal fence if he did not stop, glanced from side to side nervously, hoping for an escape route to present itself. He could see no such thing, no door or side path he could run to. Even more desperate now, he glanced again over his shoulder. He saw Piers, his rat like face grinning in triumph, and Dudley waddling like a pig behind him, pushing smaller kids to the ground in his haste to get to Harry. Behind the two of them came a crowd, eager to see the little boy beaten up again in that marvelous game, "Harry Hunting."

At this point, the boy's head was swimming in terror. In a few seconds he would be caught and Dudley and Piers would hit him with sticks and fists, just to show they could. They were gaining now, as Harry slowed to—

BANG!

Harry suddenly found himself on the ground, staring blearily at the sky. There was no intervening moment, no explanation for this strange phenomenon. One second he had been running and the next he was staring up at the sky, with no recollection of how he had gotten in that position.

Dimly, the boy realized he could hear voices.

"We got him now!" That was his cousin, Dudley.

"Yeah, let's beat him up extra for all that running he made us do." There was Piers.

"Sure, and let's stick him in a trash can, too." That was Dudley again, and the voices were getting closer.

"Wait, who are you?" That was Piers this time, and his voice sounded suspicious, scared even. Harry was confused by that. Surely Piers knew who he was? And why would the bully be scared of _him_?

Another voice answered Piers, one Harry had never heard before. "Who are you?" it responded, with a tone of contempt. This voice confused Harry even more, as he tried to force his muddled thought processes to work. That was a girl's voice, but all the girls were over by the swings. None of the girls joined in on the bullying, at least not physically, but none of them tried to stop it either, for fear that Dudley would hit them. So what was a girl doing near Dudley and his gang?

A second girl's voice joined in. "Don't mind her, Dudley. She's just Bulltoad. 'Cuz she looks like a toad." At that, several other girls were heard laughing at the first girl as well. Harry suddenly realized how there were girls there. He had ran past the swings when trying to escape Dudley and Piers, and when he had run into a brick wall or something, he had not been much past the swings.

Starting to get his senses back, Harry blinked several times before looking around to find his glasses, which apparently weren't on his head anymore, before someone stepped on them. Because of the noise he made rolling over to his stomach on the wood chips, he missed the beginning of the next comment.

"—so just go and play by yourself, Bulltoad. We get to hit this one ourselves." Piers seemed to have recovered his courage as he got back to what he knew best, bullying, and added a sneer to the epithet the girl seemed to have received.

"No." It was just one word, but from the silence that ensued, you would have thought that this unknown girl, Bulltoad, had just declared she worshipped the Devil. Of course, Harry was just as astonished, so much so that he stopped looking for his glasses and instead turned to stare at the blob in his vision which was the girl.

Almost no one could say "no" to Piers Poltkiss, especially not another kid and a girl at that! Piers' parents and sometimes the teachers would say no to him, but as far as Harry knew no one else had ever had the guts to tell him no.

At this, Dudley grew angry. "Move away now, Bulltoad! I want to beat the freak up!"

"No." Again it was just a word, and again the silence was deafening. Not even his teachers could say no to Dudley, and his parents would never dream of it. His tantrums were legendary, and the boy could inflict his punishment on anyone who crossed him, by brute force if a peer, and by his parents if an adult or a teacher.

"What?" The boy on the ground winced as he could sense a Dudley tantrum coming. Dudley had been known to hit girls, and Harry felt sorry for the girl who had decided to stand up for him.

"I said no." There was a note of danger in the girl's voice, one which Harry had often heard in Uncle Vernon's voice when he was about to be punished for his freakishness or for dropping a plate in the kitchen.

Apparently Dudley had never been on the receiving end of that voice, and he did not notice the warning sign in her tone, for he proceeded to throw even more of a tantrum. "Move! I'm going to beat the little freak up! And you too!"

Harry turned to the confrontation. Without his glasses, he could not see clearly. All he could see was two misshapen blobs, one standing in front of him, the other beyond the first. He saw some movement from the second blob and winced instinctively. He waited for the blow to fall on the girl and for her to run off crying, as had happened to every girl, or boy for that matter, who had ever tried to defend him from his cousin's torment.

Just as he expected, he could hear Dudley's fist hitting the girl who was standing up for him. To Harry's surprise, however, that was not followed by a girl's tears but instead by another loud smack. He wished dearly that he still had his glasses as he heard gasps from the spectators who had gathered to enjoy the entertainment provided by their confrontation.

Turning away, Harry carefully searched the ground for his glasses, crawling along the wood chips with his hands sweeping the ground in front of him. Abruptly, he felt a hand on his shoulder, and, turning to look at the hand's owner, felt his glasses being placed back onto his head. He was startled by the abrupt change from near blindness to regular vision, so it took a few seconds to process the scene before him.

Directly in front of him, her hand still on his shoulder as he sat on the ground, stood a girl unlike any he had ever seen before. Most of the girls at the school were very girly, always tittering and gossiping. They wore pink and pigtails and would never dream of getting dirty. This girl, though, looked nothing like them. Her face held a slight smile, but it seemed completely genuine, completely unlike the fake similes all the other girls wore. She had dirt on her clothing, and it certainly wasn't as carefully selected as Harry was sure that the other girls' were. Her shoulders were broader and her bearing more imposing than any of them, and she looked like she could hold her own against a boy in a fight. Still, Harry couldn't exactly call her fat. As it was, she really just looked, well, boyish.

Despite all that, her voice came out as high as any of the girls', surprising from someone who looked like she did. "Are you alright?" She asked, kindly.

Harry had no chance to respond as, before he could, he saw over the girl's shoulder Dudley running up, looking furious. "Behind you!" Harry shouted.

The girl turned just in time for Dudley's clenched fist to hit her on the arm instead of the back. Abruptly, they both went down into the woodchips, fists and legs flying to shouts of "fight! Fight!" from the spectators around. The pair rolled back and forth across the wood of the playground, as Harry stood, uncomprehending, watching the fight before his eyes.

Someone had defended him? Had gotten into a fight for him? Why would anyone do something like that? He was just a freak, and a waste of space, and an idiotic boy. No one could ever want to defend someone like him.

And yet…here was a girl he had never met before, new to the school, whom Harry had only seen before ever in his life in the class that they had just left. And she was defending _him_, the unwanted freak no one liked. Harry could not understand why anyone would do something like that, let alone a girl who everyone already made fun of. Didn't she realize that the taunts of "bulltoad" and "fatty" would only get worse after she helped him?

Fortunately for the quality of the boy's thoughts, which were turning in an unsavory direction that indicated his low self-esteem, rescue arrived in the form of a teacher. Of course, that rescue was less a rescue than a punishment for Harry and his savior, but it still was a rescue in some form. Teachers usually turned a blind eye to Dudley's antics, lest they be fired like his teacher the year before had been when she tried to restrain his bullying. However, this could not be ignored as this was not mere bullying and hits, but a full fight and one with a girl.

"Mister Dursley! Miss Bulstrode! What is going on here?" The chanting children fell silent as the two wrestling kids on the ground stopped as well. It was Mr. Reilly, Harry's least favorite teacher. His Uncle Vernon had invited the teacher over to their house several times, ostensibly to "get to know little Dudder's teacher's." Of course, it was really a bribe to make sure he gave Dudley good grades, but whatever the reason, the boy's relatives had imparted their hatred of him to the teacher as well.

Piers spoke up, eager to defend his friend from trouble. "Bulstrode attacked Dudley for no reason! He was just walking along when she hit him and tackled him."

"Is this true, Mr. Dursley?" Mr. Reilly asked.

Harry rarely got angry, since he knew that it would only result in him being beat up and punished. This time, though, he could not resist complaining at the unfairness of it all. "No! Mr. Reilly, she didn't do anything wrong! Dudley hit her from behind!"

The teacher looked at him distastefully. "Trying to get your cousin in trouble, are you, Mr. Potter? I don't know how your family puts up with you. Petunia really has a heart of gold to look after an ungrateful wretch like you."

"But he's telling the truth, sir," protested Bulstrode. "And Dudley was trying to beat him up, too."

Mr. Reilly looked contemptuously at the girl. "I find it hard to believe that a nice boy like Mr. Dursley here would ever do something like that. You and Mr. Potter, on the other hand, clearly thought this little ambush up to get him in trouble. You two will be spending the rest of recess, lunch, and after school helping Miss Capon clean the cafeteria."

Harry stared at the teacher in astonishment. He should have known by now that the teachers would always side with Dudley rather than him, but cleaning the cafeteria? He had never heard of a student receiving that particular punishment. Besides him, Bulstrode was staring at Mr. Reilly too, with an expression that Harry could not read.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Follow me." The teacher ordered, leading them to the cafeteria.

As they walked, Harry though he heard the girl mutter something to herself. "Got a detention my first day here...and for fighting again! Mother's not going to like this."

Harry felt a sharp spike of jealousy at the girl who, even if she was also disliked by her classmates, at least had a mother who cared for her. _He_ had to go back to Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon and his cupboard every day after school. However, even as he had these envious thoughts, the girl's mutterings became more frightened sounding.

"She's gonna pull me out of school…and now I'll be homeschooled…and I won't be smart enough to go to Hogwarts and I'll be like Auntie Barker and never have a job…and I'll die alone with thirty cats and I'll never have any friends and—"

Harry's jealousy vanished as he walked shyly over to the bigger girl. "It can't be that bad, can it?" he asked, trying to comfort the girl like he'd seen people do sometimes on his Aunt's soap operas.

The girl turned to Harry and nearly shouted at him. "Yes it can be that bad! Mother said she'd pull me out of school if I got in more trouble, and I would have to be homeschooled!"

Harry flinched away, confident that another person had decided to dislike him like they always did for his freakishness. However, seeing his flinch took all the combativeness out of Bulstrode's stance and she looked at Harry with concern.

"Oh, I'm sorry. It's just that I'm not really smart and I always get pulled out of school and no one likes me."

Harry smiled shyly at the girl. "_I _like you. You saved me from Dudley and his gang."

Mr. Reilly turned back to them and said rudely, "No talking. This is supposed to be a punishment."

Bulstrode made a face at Mr. Reilly's back as he turned away. Harry smiled at that, desperately holding in his giggles so the teacher didn't get mad at him again.

The girl leaned over and whispered in Harry's ear. "I'm Millie Bulstrode. Do you want to be friends?"

Harry smiled excitedly at that. A real friend! It seemed almost too good to be true. "Definitely! I'm Harry Potter."

Millie whispered back, "You know, you're my first friend ever."

"Well, you're my first friend too." Harry responded quietly.

The pair didn't notice that Mr. Reilly had stopped until they nearly ran into his back. "In there," he said. "In fifteen minutes, you'll go to class. Remember, you're going to come here ate lunch and after school too. Do whatever Miss Capon wants you to do. I'm going to send a note to your parents and guardians as well." Harry though the teacher was looking particularly at him when he said that, and he shivered as he thought of the punishment his uncle would give him.

Harry and Millie walked inside, looking for Miss Capon to assign them work. Miss Capon was an old woman who constantly looked like she was sucking a prune. Harry had always wondered why a woman who obviously hated children was working in the kitchens at a school. Maybe she wanted to poison them and take a few of the hated kids out of the world?

He chuckled slightly at the thought and Millie, hearing his chuckle, asked what was funny. Harry responded cautiously, expecting to be laughed at his thoughts called idiotic, only to be utterly surprised when she laughed as well. No one had ever laughed at anything he said before.

Of course, Miss Capon, looking disapprovingly at the two of them, came to spoil their fun.

"What are you doing here?" she asked suspiciously. "Come to steal food, have you? Nasty kids these days."

Millie responded for them both. "No, Miss Capon. Mr. Reilly said we had to help you clean the cafeteria."

"Why would I want your filthy little hands grubbing up my cafeteria?" Miss Capon asked.

Again, Millie answered for them. "I don't know, Miss Capon. But Mr. Reilly said we have to help you today at recess, at lunch and after school."

The cafeteria lady grudgingly agreed. "Very well. You two can scrub the pots in that corner over there." She pointed to a tall pile of incredibly dirty kitchen objects. "I've been planning to throw them out because I don't have enough time to clean them, so I suppose you can't do anything worse to them."

Millie looked appalled, but Harry was happy that he had a job to do which he was good at and could freely excel at without fear of punishment. At home, he scrubbed dishes every day for the entire family, so this was nothing new. Millie was unused to such labor, but with Harry's help she managed a passable job.

They spent the rest of recess scrubbing the dirty pots, and managed to successfully clean two medium sized ones before recess ended. Miss Capon just looked at the pots and grunted "acceptable, I suppose," before waving them off to class.

The pair of children left their work that morning happier than either had been for as long as they could remember. They had both found their very first friends ever, and had had a fun time, even if it was in the process of cleaning scum encrusted pots.

Harry had asked why Millie had decided to defend him, but she just shrugged and responded, "I dunno why. I just felt like I should."

Harry had thanked her profusely and then they had talked a bit, and made fun of Mr. Reilly, Dudley and Miss Capon. They quickly made the decision to sit together in every class and to do their homework together after school.

On such occasions, worlds turn. The friendship that was forged there, in the cafeteria of that small elementary school in Surrey, would shape their lives and the fate of the wizarding world. There is an old saying that a butterfly flapping in China can start a tornado in the colonies. In this case, that simple act of friendship when Millicent Bulstrode attempted to defend a small boy in a school playground, would have untold numbers of consequences for the future.


	2. 23 Wilfram Road

**Here's the next part of the story. Hope you enjoy.**

**I've written three chapters for the first two days of Harry and Millie's friendship, in which a few important circumstances take place. That's the first chapter, this chapter and the next, all of which are already written. After that, there will probably be four or so chapters relating their life before Hogwarts, before I go into their first year proper.**

**At the moment, neither Millie nor Harry knows about Harry's special status as the 'Boy-Who-Lived.' I will explain Millie's ignorance in a later chapter when they finally find out.**

**I already have plans on what will happen in their second year, which will show more differences from canon, but I'm not really sure how to change their first year in a reasonable way. Any suggestions would be welcome, though of course at this point it's a little early to be thinking of that.**

**Please read and review. I really want to know what you think of the story. If you have any problems at all with it, please tell me. **

**I'm not a seven year old, so if my characters are a bit more mature than they should be, tell me. I did try to point out their immaturity in a few places, but I don't know if it's enough. Still, I guess I can excuse their maturity on account of that they were both bullied for a long time and didn't really have any contact with their peers. That also explains their ability to interact with a member of the opposite gender, since they didn't have any peers to tell them about 'cooties' and all that.**

**Again, read, enjoy, and review.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing…I see nothing…I know nothing of J.K. Rowling's work. (Courtesy of Sergeant Schultz—I'll give a Knut to anyone who recognizes the reference)**

Millicent Bulstrode walked home from school that day in high spirits. She had just made a friend today! It was all she could do not to jump up and down and let out a whoop of joy that would carry all the way to Hogwarts.

In her previous three Muggle schools, each of which she had attended for a few months the previous year, she had never made a friend. It wasn't that she didn't try to make friends, or that she was a bully, though she was sometimes tempted to hit the other girls. There was just something about her that made people dislike her on sight, and something about others that made her not trust them. Perhaps it was her looks, for she knew she was not at all pretty like the other girls, or maybe it was that they could sense that she didn't trust them at all. Whatever the reason, she had never had a friend before.

And now she had one! Harry seemed much different than Millie, to be sure. He was small and rather scrawny where she was pretty big. He was certainly smarter than her, just as she was definitely more assertive. He had been bullied all his life, while she had long since realized that she could become a bully if she wished. She was a witch when he was a Muggle, though of course he had no idea about any of that.

And yet, they just seemed to be perfect friends. After only a day of knowing him, she felt like she had known him her whole life. Part of that was probably that neither of them had ever had a friend before, but it was more than that. It was also the ordeals they had shared together during the day. For her first day of school, it had definitely been exciting, though perhaps not in a good way. Despite that, she still felt it was the best day of her life.

First, of course, had been the fight in the school yard and the resulting punishment. She didn't really know why she had decided to stand up for the small boy when he had slammed into her running from that fat Dursley and his ratlike friend, but she had, and was happier for it. The punishment they had shared, even if it was humiliating to be forced to do dishes like a common house elf, had not been too awful. Then had come the classes, science and math, in which Harry's tormenter Dursley had teased the pair mercilessly. She had had a little trouble in the classes, just as she always did, but since it was their first day they hadn't had to learn much, fortunately.

After that had come lunch, when they had both been given more work to do. They had taken their lunch to a small corner of the cafeteria and ate and talked, before going to Miss Capon for their jobs. They had then proceeded to spend the rest of lunch hard at work in the kitchens, laughing and talking, if quietly, as they scrubbed more pots. This time, they had managed to finish four pots to Miss Capon' grudging acceptance, although she had rejected two more as being dirty.

Of course, another class followed, history this time, before the torment by that stupid Dursley was over. Of course, the shouting Harry had received from that dreadful Aunt of his for supposedly trying to get Dursley in trouble was no picnic either, but at least they had managed to get away from his relatives for the rest of the afternoon. Still, the Aunt seemed to blame Harry for that too, being mad that his Uncle would have to come and pick him up after school. But then Miss Capon had kept them only an hour after school, this time helping her wipe down tables in the main room of the cafeteria.

After that, Harry and Millie had hung out on the playground, acting like normal kids for the first time in their lives. They had nearly an hour of playing on the swings and laughing before Harry's Uncle had driven up and shouted for him to get in the car.

Millie frowned at that thought. She didn't really mind the bullying, especially now that she had a friend to share it, but having his family bully him? That was just awful. For all that her parents were often cold and unfeeling, Millie knew they never would dream of shouting at her in that angry, almost hating voice that Harry's Aunt had shouted at Harry with. Why would Harry's parents allow that? Come to think of it, Harry had spoken angrily about his Aunt and Uncle, but he had not even mentioned his parents to her during the hours they had spent talking.

Maybe his parents were just as bad to him? Millie couldn't really imagine any parents acting like that, but she supposed it was possible. Or, her imagination getting the better of her, maybe they were away all the time. Maybe they were dragon breeders like her Uncle Andre in Romania! Then they couldn't be home all the time and left him with his aunt and uncle.

But no, Millie thought, disappointed, that wasn't really possible. Harry was a Muggle, after all, and they couldn't be dragon breeders, since they thought that dragons didn't exist. She wondered if maybe there was a Muggle equivalent to a dragon breeder. Maybe an Oliphant master, she pondered, thinking of animals she had once seen in a Muggle zoo, or maybe a Gereff breeder?

Well, Millie thought, her face brightening, maybe Harry's parents _were_ wizards. Then Harry was only pretending to be a Muggle because his aunt and uncle were. Then they could go to Hogwarts together in a few years! That would be brilliant!

Suddenly a shout from the shadowy perch of a house she was passing snapped her out of her pleasant daydreaming. "Hey, Bulltoad!" the voice jeered, "Where's your boyfriend the freak now, fatty?" It was a very unpleasant girl from school, who had started teasing her the moment she came to school. "Decided he doesn't like you? Does he realize what a failure you are and how ugly you are?"

With those words ringing in her ears, Millie lost much of the pleasant feeling she'd had all day, though she kept it from showing on her face. She just sneered back at the girl on the porch and didn't bother responding. She did walk a little faster to get past her insulter.

Still, the insults broke through her imagining and returned Millie to the real world. Harry _was_ just a Muggle, after all, and when Millie left for Hogwarts, they'd both be alone again. She didn't want to think about that day, but she knew it was inevitable. Still, they'd have another three years before she turned eleven and got her letter.

In the meantime, she'd have fun with the first and only friend she'd ever had. Despite that stupid girl's words, she didn't think that Harry wouldn't like her anymore. Millie had always had a knack at reading people. She supposed that was one reason she'd never really tried to make friends before. But when she'd seen Harry running from those bullies, shooting a desperate look over his shoulder just before running into her, she'd known suddenly that he'd be a real friend.

She wouldn't be able to explain how she knew it, but she did know for sure and certain that they would help each other out. Her aunt, her father's sister who had dropped out of Hogwarts in her sixth year, had said it was a form of defensive magic. "Trust in those instincts," she had said, "and they'll serve you in good stead. My cousin, the one you were named for, made her way to Minister of Magic on those instincts, and hopefully they'll serve you just as well. And you'll need them, too, dearie. You're a half blood, and I have no doubt you'll be a Slytherin, so you'll have to be careful."

It was probably unusual that her instincts had blazed so fiercely over a Muggle, but Millie figured it was a side effect of being a half-blood, nearly a Mudblood, living amongst Muggles. Magic didn't usually work on non-magical folk, or if it did it was weakened as Millie's instincts usually were when at school, but this must be an exception.

Still, Millie thought over the girl's words again in her mind. She still didn't know why they had affected her so badly. She had already realized that Harry would be left behind when she went to Hogwarts, although she had tried to ignore that unpleasant fact. She also already knew that Harry wouldn't stop being her friend for no reason. Why then had the girl's shouts made her so angry, when she had always ignored them really well before? Maybe it was that she had insulted Millie's only friend too? Yes, that would explain it, for at the girl's calling Harry a freak, she had felt a surge of anger. Why that was, though, she still did not understand. Fortunately, her self-searching thoughts were cut off by the realization that she had arrived home. She pushed open the front door and walked inside.

From the outside, Number 23 Wilfram Road looked like any other house on the street. A small porch, a window on each side of the door, a balcony above with a door to the master bedroom—nothing looked out of place on the Muggle street. But the inside was another matter altogether. The entrance hall was lined with paintings, an unusual affectation but not remarkable. What set these paintings apart from the ordinary, however, was the fact that they _moved_, talking and eating as they travelled from picture to picture. A visitor would also have quickly noticed that the entrance hall from the inside looked far bigger than it possibly could. It seemed to be nearly as wide as the house itself, yet the visitor would easily see more rooms, and large ones at that, on either side of the hall.

Of course, that visitor would have to be a Muggle to find all of that in any way remarkable, for the seeming incongruity was a result of Expansion Charms. Any wizard or witch, on the other hand, would notice another thing that struck an equally jarring note. Everywhere there were signs that the Charms had been laid rather badly, what with the hallway abruptly narrowing at a few points and with the grand staircase to the upper stories seemingly encased in the walls, where if well placed the Expansion Charms would have kept them nearly ten feet from the staircase.

However, despite the mislaid Expansion Charms, the house was still rather impressive, with a large dining room, ostentatious if unused, as well as a smaller dining room for regular meals, a large kitchen adjoining both, a sitting room, and a huge library. The upstairs was less impressive and clearly showed the strain of weak Charms work, but still it held a huge master bedroom, a study for each of the older Bulstrodes as well as a smaller one for Millicent, and another library filled with appropriate reading materials, annexed to Millicent's room.

Of course, she wasn't very fond of reading, so that library was mostly unused, though she had on occasion browsed through it to find nasty jinxes. She could easily imagine using them on the pathetic girls in the schools she had gone to, and with a definite tinge of satisfaction. As a seven year old without a wand, it was impossible to actually _do_ any of the curses, but it had been fun to look at the pictures and imagine some of her tormentors with rhino hide skin or with boils all over their faces.

As she walked through the door, Millie was greeted by the sight of her mother sitting in an armchair at the side of the hallway, obviously waiting for her. Millie gulped as she prepared for a confrontation she greatly dreaded.

"Good afternoon, Mother." Millicent dropped instinctively into courtesies to try to appease her mother. It didn't work.

"Millicent. What is this I hear about you getting into another fight like a common Muggle?" Although she was muggleborn herself, and her husband half-blooded, Millicent's mother was very contemptuous of Muggles. It may have had something to do with the shouting match that she and her Muggle sister had gotten into at their mother's funeral, though Millicent wasn't sure.

"Mother, I was protecting a friend."

"Millicent, do not lie to me. You have left your previous schools because you were unable to make friends. I hardly believe this school is any different. I am beginning to think that the chances of you ever learning to work hard on your schoolwork are no longer worth the bad habits you are learning at these Muggle schools."

"But Mother," Millie pleaded, "I promise I'll work hard and get good grades and try to stay out of fights now." She was desperate not to be pulled out of school just when she had made her first friend ever.

The older Bulstrode looked at her daughter suspiciously for a moment. "The last two schools you were eager to leave. What has changed, Millicent?"

"Mother, I told you already. I made a friend now." Millicent was getting more and more desperate.

"I find that rather unlikely." She looked at her daughter severely. "Now, Millicent, tell me the true reason you desire to remain at that Muggle school."

"But Mother, it's true." Millicent thought frantically to find a way to prove it to her disbelieving mother. How about… "See, Mother, here's the note Mr. Reilly wrote. It mentions Harry in it."

Millicent's mother took the proffered paper and read it through quickly. Millicent watched carefully, looking for a reaction. The reaction came, to be sure, but she was surprised by its intensity and the form it took. At first her mother had just skimmed it quickly, muttering to herself about Millicent's stupidity. Then, about halfway through her perusal, she had suddenly stiffened and Millicent grew very suspicious of the predatory look in her eyes. She went back to the top and read it through slowly, and when she had finished there was a rather satisfied look on her face.

"Millicent, you say your friends name is Harry?" At Millicent's nod her mother looked even more satisfied, enough so that the girl began to get rather nervous. "Well, get your father from his study! _This_ is interesting news. Good job, Millicent."

Millicent scurried upstairs, thinking the whole way. Obviously, her mother had seen some advantage from that note, but what she could not see. She had asked about Harry's name, so maybe he was related to someone important? Whatever it was, Millie would be sure to let him know to be wary around her parents. Now that she had a friend, she didn't want him being used.

At the door to her father's study, she carefully knocked twice on the oak door post.

An irritable voice floated out. "Yes, what is it?"

"Father, Mother wants you downstairs."

"Why?" the voice asked, annoyance coloring it.

"She did not say, Father."

"Very well." The study opened and Millicent's father stomped out. Unlike her mid-sized mother, her father was clearly the source of Millicent's bulk. The half-blood had the broad shoulders and muscles of a fantastic Beater, though it had long since turned to fat. At one point he had been the reserve Beater for the Chudley Cannons, slated to start within a few years. But then with the rise of You-Know-Who, professional Quidditch teams had begun to drop players who were not pureblooded, leaving Antoine Bulstrode out of work and embittered. He had managed to scrape by, and even made enough Galleons to get this house, but the humiliation of his travail had never left him.

Millicent quickly followed her father down the stairs, deftly skipping a step where the failing Expansion Charm had created an unfortunate buckle, and returned to the sitting room where her mother was already sitting.

"Millicent, sit over there and wait a few moments. Your father and I will want to ask you a few questions."

Millicent obeyed as her father, still irritated, asked her mother what it was all about. The pair began whispering quietly, and Millicent's father grew more and more interested as the conversation went on. Finally, they straightened and gave Millicent an imperious gesture to come to them.

Millicent stood up straight before them, refusing to let either her curiosity or her anxiety for Harry escape to her body language.

"Now, Millicent, we are going to ask you a few questions about your new friend, Harry." She nodded to her father, wondering what they were plotting. "Firstly, does your friend have any distinguishing marks about him? A birthmark, perhaps, or a scar?"

Millicent nearly shook her head no, before she remembered. When they had been scrubbing a particularly large pot at lunch, Harry had bent down and the hair had fallen down from where it normally lay. Millie remembered seeing a scar, and she had asked him about it.

"Yes, Father. He has a scar from a car crash as a baby." Millicent thought about the conversation, and realized that Harry had been very reluctant to talk about the car crash. She wasn't sure exactly what a car crash was, but maybe his parents had been killed or injured by that? She supposed it was a reasonable explanation, but wondered why his aunt and uncle would be so awful to an orphan.

In the meantime, Millicent's response had exacted a great reaction from her parents. Her father had looked rather disappointed at the news about his scar, but her mother looked even more excited than she had before.

Millicent's mother was practically rubbing her hands together in glee as she asked her own question. "This scar…where is it and what does it look like?"

"It's like small lightning bolt on his forehead, Mother. Like this." Millicent traced a vague imitation of his distinctive scar on her own forehead.

If her previous answer had caused a sever reaction, this answer floored them. Her mother gasped, her smile so wide and so predatory as to cause fear in Millicent's stomach. Her father simply looked like a troll had hit him with a Beater's Bat and then shoved him off the top of a Quidditch hoop.

Excitedly, Millicent's mother asked another question. "And Harry … have you seen anything … odd … happen around him when he's angry or scared?"

"Like accidental magic?" Millie asked, too excited by the prospect too think about her parents' odd questions. "Harry's a wizard too?" She practically shouted in her excitement.

"Decorum, Millicent," her father barked. "Now, answer your mother's question."

"Sorry, Father. No, Mother, I have not seen any." Millicent responded, chastised and more subdued.

"And his grades? Is he smart?" her father asked.

Millicent responded with a certain measure of pride. "He's really, really smart. He helped me loads in science today. We just started today, though, so I don't know about his grades."

"What kind of boy is he, Millicent? Is he arrogant at all?" Millicent's mother asked, only to be interrupted by her husband.

"It doesn't matter. Millicent, I believe that your friend may in fact be a wizard like us. However, we cannot be certain until he does accidental magic. Until then, act as you have thus far, but when he does do magic, you may tell him about our world."

"You mean I can go back to school with Harry?" Millie asked, showing her excitement again.

"Decorum!" When Millicent calmed down, her mother continued. "Yes, Millicent, please try to keep up. For now you will return to school."

Millicent thanked her parents profusely, but she couldn't help but wonder what they were up to and how it affected Harry. They had asked some very odd questions about him and his scar, and she wondered how they had come to the conclusion that Harry was a wizard too. She would be sure to tell him everything, including her parents' odd actions and questions, because she would not let anyone harm her new friend. She was somewhat worried by their predatory expressions, as well as how easily they had decided to let her return home. And her mother's question … why would _Harry_ of all people be arrogant? He was bullied by his own family, for Merlin's sake!

Despite all of that worry for her new friend, she was still absolutely ecstatic, and couldn't wait until she saw Harry doing accidental magic and could tell him about the wizarding world. He would be going to Hogwarts with her! She could scarcely believe her luck.

That night, she fell asleep with dreams of going to Hogwarts and playing with dragons and fighting monsters with Harry by her side. She slept with a smile on her face that night.


	3. Wizard? Magic? What?

**Sorry this took a little longer. I have exams right now, so I didn't have a lot of time to type this up. As it happens, I actually had this chapter, and the next, written out, but I had to copy it from paper onto the computer. Yes, in case you ask, I do actually **_**write**_** my stories in pen.**

**Anyway, just one more exam left until school's over until after New Years.**

**Thank you for the reviews, and for all the people who put a story alert on it. I hope to be able to write a lot more of this.**

**In response to goldenfightergirl, I believe that Millicent Bulstrode is actually a half-blood according to canon. I haven't actually read the J.K. Rowling interviews where I understand a lot of background information is imparted, but that's what I understand second-hand.**

**Of course, I think I've diluted her blood a bit, making her the product of a half-blood and a Muggleborn. I think that if anything her parents would be a half-blood and a pure-blood, or maybe two half-bloods in canon. However, I couldn't very well have her go to a Muggle school in that case, could I? So, I've diluted her blood so she's very nearly a Mudblood, and added a bit of back story to justify her wanting to be in Slytherin. I haven't stated the reasoning behind that, or even the fact that she wants to outright, but if you read between the lines you can see a bit of the reasons.**

**To Penseln, thanks. I like stories where neglected characters are fleshed out a bit, and this is my attempt at one like that. It's a bit of an unconventional pairing, obviously, but I think it should be interesting. Anyway, I really don't like it when people decide to do a fanfiction starting in fifth year with a random relationship with a random character. Instead, I've decided to give a fairly unknown character a chance with Harry, but I'd like to think it's a far more reasonable and interesting one.**

**Anyway, enough with my ranting, on with the story.**

**Disclaimer: In case you haven't realized already, I'm not J.K. Rowling.**

When Harry Potter returned to school the next morning, he did so in great spirits. This was not dampened by his Uncle's yelling, or his sorely reduced meals, or even by Dudley's constant hitting in the car. He had a friend! Of course, Harry was careful not to show his excitement to his relatives, who would only punish him, but he was absolutely ecstatic.

The moment the car stopped, Harry grabbed his bag, one with a broken strap that Dudley had used two years before, and ran out to the school. He soon saw Millie sitting on a wooden picnic bench out on the playground. He ran nearly all the way to her perch before stopping.

_What if she doesn't like me anymore, _he thought, _what if she found another friend, one who's not a freak like me?_ He walked cautiously over to where Millie was sitting, looking at her hopefully.

He broke out into a sigh of relief when Millie, seeing him, grinned wildly and beckoned to him.

"Hi Millie," he said as he approached, sitting next to her on the bench.

"Hi Harry!" Millie looked happier today than the day before. As the day had gone on, she had become more and more worried, though their playing after school had seemed to break some of her gloom. Now, though, she looked in a much better mood.

"What happened?" he asked curiously, "you look happier today."

"Yeah! My father and mother said I could stay in school. They were this close to pulling me out and homeschooling me." She held her thumb and index finger less than a centimeter apart.

"Why would they do that?" Harry asked, appalled. "They won't pull you out now, would they?" Harry was frightened beyond measure at the thought of losing his new friend.

Millie smiled, revealing a chipped tooth. "Don't worry, Harry. Now that I told them I had a friend they said I could stay." Her face darkened for a moment and she looked like she was about to say something, but she shook her head and instead pointed to the wooden table. "Look at that, Harry. Isn't it cool?"

Harry looked to where she was pointing and saw a spider about the size of his thumb with its legs stuck in some spilled honey. It was surrounded by ants, who apparently decided that the spider would make a good meal. Harry watched as the ants crawled up its legs while it flailed in vain to get out of the trap.

"Yeah, it's really wicked!" Harry said. He watched the spider as it managed to pull one of its legs out of the honey and flick away some of the ants. "Look at that. It's brilliant!"

"But it's still stuck, isn't it? No point in being so much bigger if it's gonna get itself stuck, is there?" Millie asked.

"I guess so. But it still is really cool."

"Yeah. Hey, look at that ant." They watched as the ant Millie pointed out stuck its feelers in the honey and began walking in circles. The pair of friends giggled at its antics as they watched.

Their fun was spoiled, however, by a loud bell summoning the students for the beginning of the day. Millie and Harry hurried inside to a classroom, ready to face another day of torment and boredom.

Their first class passed peacefully enough. Of course, Dudley had fun throwing pencils at Harry's head, which the teacher willfully ignored, but besides that normal occurrence it was fine. Harry didn't really pay attention to the lesson anyway, because he knew that if he did he'd get a better grade than Dudley. That would only result in punishment, so he usually just ignored the teacher and daydreamed. Now, though, he had fun watching his friend in class. Millie was trying and failing to pay attention. She would listen to the teacher drone on about French, then slowly her eyes would glaze over, and then she would shake herself and start again. Harry found it quite entertaining, which earned him a glare when they walked back outside.

"It's not funny!" she said. "If I don't do well enough, mother might pull me from school. Learning how to pay attention and work is the only reason she sent me to," she hesitated a moment, "school here. Besides, _you_ aren't even trying to pay attention."

Harry was worried by the thought that she might be pulled out of school, but ignored the thought for a moment. Rather than asking about it, he explained why he never paid attention. "I can't work hard cuz if I do, I get punished for getting a better grade than Dudley."

To Harry's surprise, for he felt that it was the natural order of things, Millie grew angry at that and began walking to Harry's fat cousin. He pulled her back and asked what she was doing.

"I'm going to beat that fat pig up," she swore, her eyes blazing in anger. "You are so much smarter than me and it's not fair that you can't get good grades just because your cousin's an idiot."

"No, Millie," Harry pleaded. "If you go beat him up, you'll just get in trouble with the teachers. Then Dudley will tell Uncle Vernon it was me and I'll get in trouble too."

At that Millie looked even angrier for some reason, but she relented and didn't attack Dudley, though she obviously wanted to.

Harry, trying desperately to distract Millie from her thoughts of vengeance, pulled her over to the wood bench where they had sat before. "What did you say before about being pulled out?" He asked.

Millie still looked slightly angry, but answered his question. "Oh yeah. If I don't get good enough grades, my mother might decide it's not worth it for me to come to school anymore."

"What?" Harry asked, frightened by the thought. "Is that going to happen, do you think?" He desperately hoped she would say no.

"I don't know," Millie replied, looking unsure. "I would have said it would definitely happen before I met you, but I think my mother has decided to let me stay now that I have a friend. Unless I get really bad grades, I mean really bad."

Harry replied. "We'll just have to make sure that doesn't happen." Harry knew he could help Millie with her work. He was a bit worried about being punished for getting good grades, but it would be worth it to keep his friend in school.

Millie brightened at that, and was about to respond when the pair was rudely interrupted. Dudley and Piers, along with two other kids, were making their way over to them. Dudley's waddling would have been funny if he hadn't had a very mean expression on his face, which his gang matched.

"Hey, look Piers. It's the Freak and the Bulltoad!" he called.

"Yeah," Piers responded, "I guess weirdoes flock together."

Millie looked like she was going to respond to their taunts, but Harry shook his head at her. "Dudley wants us to fight back so we can get in trouble again."

Harry's friend obeyed his words and turned back to the wooden table with him. Dudley, however, had other ideas. He walked to their bench, his gang following closely behind. Harry stood up, trying to pull Millie with him to run away from the bullies.

She had begun to follow him when Dudley called out, "Scared, are you, Bulltoad?"

This became the first time in Harry's life up to that point when he stood up to his cousin. He couldn't very well let the bully taunt his first ever friend, could he? This was a turning point in Harry's life, though it didn't seem it at the time. This was the time when he stopped being a passive victim of Dudley's bullying and taunts. From that time on, he stopped running away, and started fighting back.

Still, his first defiance took the form of a simple scornful comment: "She isn't the coward, Dudley. You are."

Harry felt his innards tremble at his foolishness and he knew he would be punished for it. Still, he stood his ground as Dudley stared in stupid incomprehension at him. "What?" Dudley asked, unused to Harry standing up to him. "I'm going to get you for that, freak."

Dudley rushed at Harry, his fists raised. Harry got ready to take the blow or run away, but his decision was interrupted by a blur in front of his vision. Millie had rushed at Dudley, pushing him away from Harry. Dudley pushed back, and Piers, faithful as always, pushed Millie from behind, making her stumble and nearly fall.

At that sight, Harry did another thing he had never done before; he physically attacked Dudley. He ran over to the spot where Millie was trying to stay up between Dudley and Piers and rushed at his cousin.

"Stay away from her!" he shouted, surprised again by his newfound courage.

Of course, that courage did him no good, as one of Dudley's other friends, who until then had stayed out of the fray, punched him in the stomach. Harry curled up and, barely staying on his feet, began grasping desperately for breath. However, despite the pain, he still managed to force himself back up and push at Piers as he tried to hit Millie from behind. Millie was grappling with Dudley, and Harry could see that she seemed to have the upper hand, despite Dudley's greater bulk. Dudley almost never had to deal with people actually fighting back, and was unused to physical exertion. Of course, that did not help Harry when the fourth bully kicked out his legs, leaving him spitting out wood chips as his stomach lay on the ground. Millie joined him there a moment later when Piers finally managed to pull her off of Dudley.

The two friends, lying on the ground as they were surrounded by Dudley and his gang, began to feel shoes hitting their arms and legs. They vainly tried to protect themselves, but they continued to receive blows on their entire bodies.

They finally received rescue of a sort from Mr. Reilly, though just as the time before it was not much of a rescue. He took one look at the scene, with the two dirty students on the ground surrounded by four larger boys and quickly made his decision.

"Mr. Dursley, what did Mr. Potter and Ms. Bulstrode do this time?" he asked, scorn coloring his voice.

Dudley quickly thought of a lie to tell. "Well, sir, me and my mates were just walking along. Then Bulltoad over there decided to attack us with no warning at all, and the Freak followed her."

Millie looking vengefully at the fat boy as she spat a small wood chip from her lip, asked "Why were _we_ on the ground, then, eh Dursley?"

"Well," Piers responded, "they tried to slide tackle us, and we were just about to start walking away when they began kicking at us. Then you came, sir."

"Ms. Bulstrode, I am ashamed of you. Attacking another student without warning! You will be working in the cafeteria every day at lunch for the next three weeks. Mr. Potter, for following her bad example, you will be there with her for the first two weeks." He looked back gleefully as the pair stared in disbelief. "In addition, for trying to lie to a teacher, Ms. Bulstrode, you will also be held two hours after school today to think on your actions."

Harry very rarely got angry. He was so used to being treated unfairly that it was not worth getting upset over anymore. Normally, he would have just nodded and walked away when a teacher favored Dudley over him. This time, though, the teacher had not picked Harry, at least not too much. No, Mr. Reilly had picked on Harry's friend this time, his only friend. With the loyalty that, despite Dudley's best efforts, was still an integral part of him, Harry protested Mr. Reilly's unfairness.

"But Mr. Reilly! Dudley is lying. He attacked Millie from behind and then all four of them pushed us to the ground and were kicking at us." Harry had just lied to the teacher too, of course, but however justified Millie's attacking Dudley was, he didn't think that Mr. Reilly would agree with that assessment.

"Very well, Mr. Potter." Harry looked at Mr. Reilly, startled. His temporary hope vanished with the teacher's next words. "You may join your friend after school today as well."

At that dismissal, Harry felt real anger for the first time. He had occasionally gotten upset or irritated before, but never had his anger been as all-consuming as it was now. His blood began pulsing in his veins, and he felt an irrational, desire to punch the teacher.

"Mr. Reilly! That's completely unfair! Why won't you listen to us? Millie did nothing wrong!" Harry shouted at the teacher.

"Another two weeks of work in the cafeteria for both of you." Mr. Reilly signaled his dismissal and walked away.

Harry stared at the teacher's retreating back vengefully, wishing he could push the unfair man into the puddle he was walking past. His anger rose inside him, and he clenched his fists tightly. Suddenly, Harry felt a little dizzy and tired, and he felt a sort of release inside of him.

Before Harry's eyes, Mr. Reilly's shoelaces seemed to take on a life of their own, attaching to each other and tying together. At the same time his tie swung around his shoulders and across his arms, tying them to his sides. His suit began sprouting odd rips, and his hair turned a bright blue.

Happening too fast to really understand what was happening, Mr. Reilly fell down and, without his arms to stop his fall, fell into the puddle on his back with a splash. He lay there, staring up at the sky, with a shredded blazer, his tie around his arms, and his hair bright blue.

Dudley and his gang stared in fright, glancing from where Harry stood panting heavily to Mr. Reilly's humiliated position. Of all the spectators, only Millie retained any presence of mind. She quickly grabbed hold of Harry's arm and dragged him away, leading him beneath a tree just inside the school's limits.

"That was brilliant, Harry," she cried. "the look on his face…priceless." She was laughing hard as she said this, leaning against the tree.

Harry stared in disbelief to where Mr. Reilly, still visible, lay squirming in the puddle striving to free himself from his tie. "What just happened?" he asked dimly.

"That was an incredibly strong bit of accidental magic." Millie continued. "I bet you'll be a really strong wizard when she grow up." She was still smiling wildly at the humiliation the teacher had received.

"Wizard? Magic?" Harry just stared blankly at Millie. She must be having him on. There was no such thing as magic, right?

"Yeah Harry, that was magic you just did. Was it your first?" she asked curiously, the novelty of seeing a teacher fall in a puddle having died down a bit.

"What are you talking about?" Harry asked, growing a little angry. The joke was getting old now.

Millie was still smiling at him. "I know you're a wizard, Harry. You don't have to pretend to be a Muggle to me anymore."

"What?" Harry asked again. She hadn't answered any of his questions, still. "Wizard? Muggle? Millie, I don't know what you're talking about."

His friend sighed in exasperation and a little bit of confusion. "You don't know anything, do you?" At Harry's gesture of impatience, she settled down for an explanation. "Okay," she said, "first off, magic exists. That was what happened to Mr. Reilly."

"I did that?" asked Harry, half appalled and half excited by the thought.

"Yeah," Millie responded. "Like I said, that was really impressive. The only bit of accidental magic I've ever had was the ability to kind of read people. It's like I can see if their trustworthy and stuff."

Harry gaped at there. "You can tell if people are good? That's so much better than anything I did."

Millie responded to that rather bitterly. "No it isn't," she said. "My father just says that it shows I'm not much better than a Squib."

"What's a Squib?" Harry asked, confused, "and anyway, your ability is _so_ much more useful than mine. You can tell if Dudley is going to attack us. Maybe you can even tell if a teacher will favor Dudley like Mr. Reilly does."

Stubbornly, Millie repeated herself. "What you did is so much better than what I can do."

Just as stubborn, Harry argued back. "Just cuz it's cool looking doesn't make it good. How often am I going to want to turn someone's hair blue? Anyway, you didn't answer my question. What's a Squib?"

"A Squib is someone born of magical parents who doesn't have any magical ability," Millie replied, sounding like she was quoting a dictionary.

Harry could tell Millie hadn't accepted his reassurances, but he let her change the subject anyway. "So magic ability is passed down from parents?" Harry asked, growing excited. "So my parents were wizards too?" He was beyond ecstatic to maybe learn something about his parents, whom he had never known.

"Maybe," Millie said. "I dunno. Some wizards are born of Muggles too, like my mother. Then again, my mother did seem to recognize your name, so maybe your parents _were_ magical too."

"Muggles?" Harry asked puzzled by the term. Then the impact of the other thing Millie had said struck him like a hammer. "Your mum recognized my name? Why?"

"Muggles are non-magical people. People like Dudley and Miss Capon and Mr. Reailly." Millie explained. "And I have no idea why my mother would recognize your name. Still, you should watch out around her. My father too. I think they're up to something."

Harry was stunned. He had received so many shocks in the last ten minutes that his head spun. He was a wizard and could turn people's hair blue and make their shoelaces tie together from fifteen feet away. His new friend was a witch, one who could basically read minds. Harry's parents were magical, and his name had been recognized by his friend's parents. Those same parents were apparently planning something to do with him.

Millie laughed at his expression. "If you think the ideas crazy now, just wait 'till you get your wand and get to go to Hogwarts with me."

Harry looked at her, too shell-shocked to wonder about any new terms.

His friend laughed louder. "Come on, Harry. Class is about to start. How about this: If you help me with my work, I'll tell you all about the magical world."

Harry could do nothing but nod to that, and followed his friend back inside for their next class.

After the class, where the teacher had taught geography for the first fifty minutes and then history for another fifty, the duo walked to the cafeteria. They waited in line for their food, a mushy mess that was supposedly chicken casserole, and took it to the small table in the corner where they had sat the day before. When they had finished the unappetizing meal with a little help from some orange juice, they quietly walked back to the kitchens, where Miss Capon stood cleaning dishes.

She scowled at them. "You two again?" she snarled, "What did you do this time?" As their mouths opened to protest, she cut them off. "Never mind, I don't want to hear it. Start scrubbing that pot." She pointed to a huge pot which had the remains of their just eaten meal clinging to its metal sides.

The friends did not argue with the cafeteria lady but merely scurried over to the dirty pot and began scrubbing, taking turns to delve into its depths. As they worked, they talked in whispers. Millie told Harry all about the wizarding world, or at least as much of it as she knew from her parents. She explained that, despite her parent's status as wizards, she had not been immersed in the wizarding world the way other half-bloods and purebloods may have been. She had to explain those terms too, of course, which led to some speculation about Harry's own blood status. They then began talking about Hogwarts, and all the things Millie hoped to do when she got there.

Harry was completely fascinated by this strange and fabulous world, a world of dragons and castles and magic. Still, as he laughed and talked and listened to Millie, he could not help but wonder where his parents fit into this world. Were they wizards? If they were, why hadn't Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia ever told him about it? And if they weren't, why had Millie's parents recognized his name?


	4. A Year Passes

**Here's the next installment. The next one is only started, and I'm going on vacation, so it may or may not be a while before I can post it. **

**Thanks for the support and the reviews I appreciate. To answer some specific questions in the reviews:**

**To Penseln: To your first question, I'm going to try to follow the books to a certain extent. What that means is that the broad outline will be the same, at least up to the fourth book. It will be Philosopher's Stone first year, Chamber of Secrets second, so on and so forth. However, Harry's friendship with Millie will have some affects, major and minor. I'm going to try very hard to not just have a rehash of the books. The second year, especially, will have changes. I actually have most of that plotted out already, and it's a lot different. I'm actually having more trouble thinking of ways the first year will be different. Any suggestions would be welcome. I guess it's just a bit more of the butterfly effect, anyway, that the later parts will have more changes.**

**To your second question, yeah, Draco will be himself. I have some sympathy for the character, but no liking. Same with Snape. And yes, Harry and Millie will both be Slytherin. I actually think that their personalities so far are more Hufflepuff than anything, at least as far as the loyalty goes, but I've always felt that it's not personalities but prejudices that actually sort the students. I mean, honestly, has Draco ever been cunning or sly? Or ambitious, for that matter, other than following his father's footsteps? I'd think the whole fake duel thing in first year is probably the most cunning he is in the whole series until third year with the Hippogriff scene, and neither is really impressive, are they? So, yeah, sorry for the rant, but due to Millie's parents, the pair will be Slytherin.**

**To Reader1Writer1: It seems that you pretty much anticipated this chapter. So, read on.**

**To Goldenfightergirl: Yes and no. They do have a lot of contempt for the Muggles, but they will not directly interfere too much. As far as the school goes, I think that Millie's mother wants her to learn discipline and how to pay attention in school, so actually the whole Mr. Reilly thing could be taken almost as beneficial. Obviously that's twisted logic, but I kind of need that kind of reasoning to have Millie be in Muggle school in the first place, so yeah. As far as the Dursleys, the Bulstrodes will run **_**some**_** interference between Harry and the Muggles. However, the Bulstrodes do not in any way, shape, or mean want to tangle with the guardians of the **_**Boy-Who-Lived**_**. They're not sure exactly how much influence the Dursleys wield, and as such will stay out of it as much as possible. Besides, I don't think Millie will reveal too much of either situation to her parents, seeing as, at least as far as Harry's situation goes, she doesn't trust them at all.**

**I think that at parts of this Harry and Millie are too mature for their age, so sorry about that. I guess I could come up with a whole psychological reason for that, being bullied and all, but I'm really just having trouble writing realistic seven/eight year old's in their situation. I guess you should just remember that for most of the time they're playing on the swings and stuff like that together. It's just the scenes where they have need to be more mature that I'm writing, as they're the important ones.**

**And about Millie not trusting her parents, even though she's only eight (I guess I'll put her birthday sometime during the school year), she has this instinct thing going on. It's not that she doesn't love them anymore, even though they are plotting a bit and are kind of cold to her, it's just that she wants Harry to be careful. I think of the Bulstrodes as basically trying to emulate the Malfoys and other Pureblood families like them, and not succeeding particularly well.**

**Anyway, that took up a lot of space, didn't it? Anyway, on with the story. Please read and review, **_**especially**_** if you find something that you dislike, or a question about the story. I'd rather hear about things that I'm doing wrong than things I'm doing right, however gratifying the latter may be.**

**Disclaimer: I'm sorry to disappoint, but I'm not J.K. Rowling. Better luck next time.**

The rest of the school year passed rather quickly, days turning into months as the pair of friends carried out their daily routine. They became inseparable, spending every moment they could together. When at school, they sat next to each other and played together. On the weekends, they snuck out from their houses to play in the deserted playground near Harry's house. This development caused some amount of satisfaction to the Bulstrodes, though neither Harry nor Millie could come up with a reason for it. At the same time, Harry's new friend caused ill-concealed fury in his Aunt and Uncle, his Aunt especially, though he would have thought they'd be happy to have him out of the house.

Their respective houses were pretty far away, so they got plenty of exercise journeying to their meeting spot each day. When there, they spent some time playing on the swings and doing imaginary games, but more spreading magical books on the ground and reading them together. Millie had sneaked the books out of the house, hiding them in her backpack when she went to school. Harry had wanted to read some books on Hogwarts, the Wizarding School that Millie had said they would go to, but Millie brought a book full of spells and jinxes instead. His disappointment quickly vanished as they delved into the book, though.

Harry was enthralled by all the spells he could find in the book. His imagination sparked as he discussed interesting ones with his best friend. Still, he could tell that she, even though she had chosen the book, was not as interested by it as he. Of course, she did enjoy looking at the pictures and the effects of the curses with him, but it just didn't seem to catch her interest as much as it did his.

He had asked Millie why one day in the fall, while they sat on the top of the slide together with the book in between them. She had responded, "I used to love thinking about those awful girls cursed like that. I would think about them with horns or tree trunks as legs, or something." Harry laughed at that, thinking of Dudley stomping around with wooden legs. Millie had laughed with him, but then continued more seriously. "But now I have you as a friend and I think of you being hit by one of the spells instead."

Harry could kind of understand what Millie was saying. He did have a weird and bad feeling sometimes when he thought of her being jinxed by one of the spells in the book. Still, he thought, the spells would be really good to use on Dudley or someone like that.

He said as much to Millie, and then added, "Anyway, not reading them wouldn't keep either of us from being cursed. Now we can get revenge if someone tries." Harry thought of Dudley as he said this, remembering that Friday when the bully had tripped Millie and shoved her into the ground.

Millie reluctantly agreed with his reasoning, but also decided to find out if there was a way to block spells or something.

Harry was sometimes a bit frightened of his newfound anger and desire on revenge on Dudley. Before, he had hated being chased by his cousin, and had often dreamed of getting away, but he had never thought of actually causing him pain. Now, though, when he saw Dudley mistreat Millie as well as himself, new thoughts of revenge found themselves making their way through Harry's head.

These thoughts had cause to come often that year, for Dudley tortured the pair more and more often as the year went on. Whenever the bully found either of the pair alone, he would set upon them, pushing them to the ground and kicking them. When they were together, then Dudley would just gather his gang together before chasing them.

Harry and Millie ran when they could, and fought back when they could not. They found themselves going to Miss Capon's cafeteria nearly every day, washing pots and scrubbing tables. The teachers, especially Mr. Reilly, were so taken by the Dursleys that they really couldn't care less if Harry and Millie were fighting back or not.

Still, it wasn't all bad. For one thing, with Harry's help, Millie had managed to get her grades up. Harry didn't dare pay attention in class, in case the teacher would notice and realize that Harry was not as stupid as she always thought. Instead, Harry and Millie would take the class books off somewhere alone after school, preferably somewhere that Dudley wouldn't find them.

Then, Harry would help Millie go through the books, and would try to explain stuff that they read in it. It wasn't that Millie was stupid or anything, it was just that she was missing all sorts of little bits and pieces of knowledge to let her understand the classes. For example, when the teacher told the class that diversion is the inverse of multiplication, Millie didn't understand because she had never learned what multiplication actually meant. She had memorized tables, or tried to, but she had no idea that multiplication is just adding over and over again. It was the same in all their classes. She just didn't know stuff that most people would think was simple or common knowledge.

Millie explained it by the fact that she hadn't done any school until she was six. In fact, she hadn't had any contact at all with the Muggle world until then. Apparently, her mother and father had tried to teach her by thrusting textbooks and histories at her, under the impression that was how real wizards, Purebloods, taught their children. Whether that was true or not, Millie didn't know, but she did think that Purebloods were probably smarter than her. Harry argued that it wasn't true, but she didn't really believe her.

After that one-sided argument, she had gone on to explain that when she had shown no real inclination to read the books, her mother had finally decided to send her to a Muggle school. Over the two years before Millie had gone to school with Harry, she had been spectacularly unsuccessful at Muggle school. Not only had she been unable to understand the teachers' lectures, but she had also been constantly bullied by the girls who made fun of her for her heavier build and her seeming stupidity.

Now, though, although she was still teased, she had a true friend. Now, too, she was beginning to understand some of the classes, and getting better grades. Millie still didn't understand why it was so important to learn about Muggles, considering that she and Harry would leave in only a few years to go to Hogwarts and never have to live in the Muggle world again, except in the summers. Still, she would do whatever she had to in order to stay in school with Harry.

At the same time, though, Harry had been having more trouble with Dudley and the Dursleys. One time, after he had spent fifteen minutes explaining a history lesson to Millie, he had accidentally gotten 10 points better than Dudley on a quiz. That day, when they both had come home, Uncle Vernon was so mad that Harry had been sure he'd hit him. However, Harry's Uncle had restrained himself, and instead sent him to his cupboard with no dinner. In fact, when he'd woken up the next morning, Harry hadn't been given breakfast either, on account of his being a cheater. He hadn't bothered to complain or explain that he hadn't actually cheated. Instead, he had quietly consented and sworn when he was alone in his cupboard to not forget himself like that again.

When Millie had heard about what had happened, she had been horrified, offering to stop asking for help. "If you don't help me, then you won't have to pay attention, and then you won't be able to do better than Dursley, and then you won't be punished," she had said.

Harry had gotten uncharacteristically angry at that, snarling, though quietly, back at her. "No! I won't take the chance that you're gonna get pulled out, just so I can save myself a couple of meals. I'm going to help you whether you like it or not."

Millie had consented to him, though she had decided to learn with Harry how the teachers graded to make sure that he kept his grade below Dudley's. This ended up working very well, and the two of them had worked out a system that made sure Harry's grades were low enough without going so low as to make a teacher phone Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia.

Apart from a few hiccups such as that, the year passed more or less pleasantly. In fact, on balance it was the best year they had had in all their still short lives. To the utter surprise of the two friends, their sessions working with Miss Capon had created a great deal of that pleasantness.

At the beginning, she had snarled at them every time they came in the cafeteria, which ended up being nearly every day either at recess, lunch, or after school during the entire year. She seemed very suspicious of the pair, always checking to make sure that they hadn't broken anything or missed a spot. After nearly three months, though, she had decided to leave them alone, having seen that they were willing enough, and quick learners.

The grudging acceptance they had won from the old lady was replaced by some pity and admiration when she found the boy explaining how to wash a difficult grate on the stove. "Look," he had told his friend, "you have to use this," he held up a thin and bristly cleaning utensil, "like this. You have to get around under the grate." Miss Capon had watched in admiration as he deftly slid the cleaner through and around the grate, cleaning the accumulated dust off its inside.

Miss Capon had begun to walk away, satisfied by their skill at cleaning, when she heard the girl speak. "Harry, where did you learn to do that?" Miss Capon stopped, curious as well. She was also surprised by the faint note of suspicion in the girl's voice. She had thought the two were thick as thieves.

The boy had not responded, and the girl spoke again. "It's those Dursleys again, isn't it?" Miss Capon wondered who the Dursleys were to cause such hatred in the seven-year-old's voice. Another pause, and then the girl spoke angrily. "They expect you to clean, too?" With no answer, she continued. "I wish I could go and hex those stinking pigs until they bleed out their ears." The old cafeteria lady blinked at that. Hex? Maybe she was one of those odd Wiccan types?

The girl wasn't done, though. "They expect you to cook for them, every day, and then only let you have the scraps! And then they expect you to clean the stove, too!"

The kitchen lady listened more carefully, shocked by those allegations. Then the boy responded with anger in his voice. "It's not just my family, though, is it? Your dad said you were as good as a Squib! And you're mum said she didn't think you'd have a friend! Don't think I don't remember that." There was a heavy silence, and then the boy said softly, "I'm sorry, Millie, I wasn't thinking. At least you have your parents, and they do love you. I didn't mean it like that."

Miss Capon heard a sniffle from their place in the kitchens, and she turned away to give them some privacy. She did not mention the conversation she had overheard to either of them. However, she did watch them more carefully afterwards. She noticed that the boy was too thin for his age and the girl had some indications of low self-esteem. For that matter, the boy did too. After the bout of eavesdropping, the old lady was sure to always give the pair an extra helping of her best food. Slowly, it seemed like the boy was filling out a bit, growing slightly taller and getting some fat on his bones, though he was still scrawny.

The two friends did not know what caused the change, but they did see that they were getting no more snarls when they arrived to serve out a punishment. Instead, it seemed that they would occasionally even get approving nods and gestures of encouragement. The pair weren't sure what to make of the cafeteria lady's newfound attitude, but they took it in stride. Neither did notice the extra food on their plates or the covert glances the old lady sent their way, but they still found their time in the cafeteria to be some of the most pleasant times they spent in school.

There was only one other event of that time that was really worth noting, and that was Harry finally meeting Millie's parents. Harry had often wondered why Millie always walked home instead of driving with her parents like most of the kids at school. When he had thought to ask, Millie responded that they didn't have a car as they could get most places magically. Harry hadn't thought of that before, but he supposed it made sense that wizards could get places with magic.

However, Harry was surprised one day in late April to see two adults greet Millie after school. He glanced at her, and she nodded to him, showing him that they were indeed her parents. He quickly thought through what Millie had told him about them, and decided that formality was the best course of action.

He strode to them and offered his hand calmly, although his insides were churning badly. He felt Millie's reassuring hand on his shoulder as he spoke. "Hello, Mr. Bulstrode, Mrs. Bulstrode. It's very nice to meet you."

Millie's parents looked at him, and he felt Millie's hand squeeze his shoulder in warning. He couldn't see anything untoward in their glances himself, but he had learned to trust Millie's instincts. If she wasn't willing to completely trust her own parents, then neither was he.

As he shook their hands, he thought over what Millie had said about her discussion with her parents about him.

"It think they assumed you already knew about magic for some reason. They were really interested in your scar, too," she had said.

"But why?" he had asked her. "Why would my scar interest your parents? I just got in some dumb car crash. And how would they know I'm a wizard, or think I know?"

"I dunno," she had replied, "but you should watch out. I'm not sure why, but they think you'll help them somehow."

They had spent several fruitless hours over the year trying to come up with explanations for the Bulstrodes' odd fixation with him, but they finally gave it up as a bad job.

Harry shook himself out of his musings, as Mrs. Bulstrode responded to his greeting. "It's nice to meet you , Harry. I've heard a lot about you from my darling Millicent."

The young boy didn't need Millie's slightly tightened grip on his shoulder or her tales of how much her mother ignored her to know something was wrong with her words. Millie hated her full name something awful, and if her mother was truly as caring as she pretended to be, she would have known that. No, even though Millie's parents seemed perfectly nice and trustworthy, Harry would still be careful around them. He didn't know what they wanted, but if Millie thought he should watch out, he would.

Mr. Bulstrode also gripped Harry's hand, more tightly than his wife had. In many ways, Millie's father reminded Harry of Uncle Vernon, but at the same time he was completely different. Even though the Bulstrodes were wearing perfectly normal clothing and spoke normally, there was still something…off about them. After a moment, Harry realized what it was. They both looked like they were uncomfortable in their current clothing, like they'd rather be wearing one of those robes Millie had shown him in a chocolate frog card she had brought him once.

Millie's father spoke, in a low rumbling voice that vaguely reminded Harry of a bear growling. "Yes, Harry. I've heard that you're an extraordinary young man."

Even if he knew that the adults were up to something, he still enjoyed being complemented by an adult for nearly the first time in his life. Of course, occasionally random strangers who Harry had since learned were wizards had occasionally popped in and bowed to him, of all things, but this was different. At the same time, Harry was happy that Millie's parents were interested enough in him to ask about him. They had, after all, told Millie to tell them all about him. Even if the Bulstrodes had some goal in using him, it was hard to not feel flattered about that.

The Bulstrodes chuckled quietly as Harry blushed, but they quickly got down to business. Mr. Bulstrode, who squatted down to eye level with Harry, asked a question. "So, Harry, you didn't know anything about the wizarding world before you met our Millicent? Nothing at all?" At Harry's agreement to the statement, the man stood up and muttered "peculiar" under his breath.

Mrs. Bulstrode had then cut in. "So you don't have robes, or a cloak, or anything?"

Harry replied respectfully, though it was hard to be nice to someone who had mistreated Millie. "No ma'am. I don't have any wizard stuff."

The witch shook her head in disbelief. "Well, Harry, we'll need to get you fitted out soon. When you get to Hogwarts with Millicent, you'll need to make a good impression. Maybe this summer you'll come with us to Diagon Alley?"

Harry's eyes bulged at that. Millie had told him some about the fabled wizarding shopping center, and it sounded incredible. She had only been there once, she had told him, but when she had been there she could not get enough of the sights. Quidditch shops, Olivander's wand store, Fortescue's Ice Cream parlor; neither could think of anyplace more amazing than Diagon Alley, save perhaps Hogwarts itself.

But then his spirits fell. "Uh, I'm sorry, but I don't think my aunt and uncle will let me. And I don't have any money either."

"Don't worry about that, Harry," she replied. "I'm sure I can convince your aunt and uncle to let you come with us. And as for money, nonsense! We'll be happy to pay for you."

Harry answered sadly, certain his relatives wouldn't let him go. "Well, if you can convince Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia to let me come, then I'd love to." He then added, in a muted tone none but Millie heard, "Fat chance of that."

"Well that's settled then," Mr. Bulstrode said gruffly. "Now come along, Millicent, don't make Harry's relatives have to wait."

Harry and Millie exchanged shrugs as her parents brought her away. When they got together in the cafeteria the next day, while scrubbing tables, they couldn't understand why Millie's parents had offered that. As Millie had said, "I don't get it. They're always complaining about how we don't have enough money to reset the Expansion Charms on our house. My father's only an Assistant Beater's Coach for the Cannons. Why would they offer to pay for you? It's gotta be expensive."

Of course their conversation quickly devolved into an explanation of Quidditch and a promise to bring a book on it to school the next day, but the question still lingered to be brought up in conversations occasionally during the year. As the year drew to its end, Harry could not help but tense as he thought of the possibility of a trip to Diagon Alley and whatever Millie's parents wanted from him. He had long since learned that whenever an adult was nice to him, they wanted something from him. What the Bulstrodes wanted he did not know, but with Millie and him together they would figure it out eventually.


	5. To Diagon Alley

**Here you go, the next chapter. I'm sorry it took so long, but Christmas Break is a really hard time to try to write. At one point I had something like 13 cousins, 6 aunts and uncles, and my grandmother at my house. **

**Originally I intended this chapter to cover their entire trip to Diagon Alley, but it ended up expanding really fast, so I split the chapter in two. Funnily enough, despite that this is still the longest chapter yet, even without the long author's notes. The next chapter will be the rest of the trip to the alley. The chapter after will be one of the most important ones of Harry and Millie's time before Hogwarts, the one in which they both get a few important things explained to them. After that, there'll probably be another five or so chapters before Hogwarts. Originally I wanted to get to Hogwarts in only a few chapters, but there's still a bunch more that I want to add first.**

**In response to my reviews: To Penseln: I'm thinking that they will have only a certain degree of Pureblood philosophies, as both of them have muggleborn mothers, of course. On the other hand, they will have a certain degree of contempt for Muggles themselves, both because of their experiences in school and because of their close interaction with Millie's parents, who scorn Muggles.**

**I can't imagine them being friends with Hermione, but not because of her Muggleborn descent. Rather, because she is a Gryffindor and they are Slytherin, they won't be friends. On the other hand, they will be something like allies or associates. Basically, they are friends in the Slytherin sense, but not in the real Gryffindor sense of the word. As far as taunts and the like, they can't afford to directly combat them, but they certainly won't join in, and they may combat them in a subtle way.**

**As mentioned above, I can't really see them having any **_**real**_** friends in Slytherin. However, just as with Hermione (or Granger, as I think they'll be referring to most people by their last names), they may be **_**friendly**_** with other Slytherins. I think Davis, Greengrass and Zabini are the most likely candidates of that status. Incidentally, they will be friendly with the Weasleys as well, but even that friendship will be tainted a bit by a Slytherin mentality, at least on the side of Harry and Millie.**

**To Reader1Writer1: Well, the Bulstrodes won't introduce Harry to his inheritance, though they would if they could. They just don't have his key. I think they'll mention that to him next chapter. As far as Ms. Capon goes, she will play a bit of a role in the story, though it is somewhat peripheral.**

**On another note, mostly unrelated to my story, I was reading a bunch during Christmas Break, even if I couldn't write, and I had an idea (dangerous, I know). I was reading a few time travel stories, and I was thinking it would be really interesting to have a story of that type in which a secondary character, say perhaps Millie, came back in time. For one thing, they would have a lot less knowledge than the main characters would have, which would make it all a whole lot more interesting. So, an embittered and disillusioned Millicent Bulstrode, whose family was killed by Death Eaters and whose friends were imprisoned by the Order, comes back in time for some reason or another. I don't have the time to write that story, but I think that something along those lines would be really, really interesting to read.**

**Anyway, sorry about the off-topicness. Just thought I'd write what I was thinking at the time. Here's the story. Please read and review, and don't hesitate to criticize. Thanks.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own nothing. Sorry for all those who had some idea in their head that I was J.K. Rowling, I'm sorry to disappoint.**

The final month and a half of school passed quickly, and soon the two friends found themselves in the summer. On the last day of school, Harry mournfully told his best friend that they wouldn't be able to play together as much, since he would have to do chores every day. To Harry's surprise Millie had just smiled and said it wouldn't be a problem.

"But Millie! How can you say it won't be a problem? I'll be lucky if I finish my chores by three every day," Harry had protested, shocked by his friend's lack of concern.

"Don't worry," she had said, "it will all sort itself out."

Despite his friend's words, Harry could not help worrying as he lay in his cupboard that night. What if why she laughed was because she didn't like me anymore, he thought, what if now that it's summer she found a better friend?

Harry did not sleep well that night, and his dreams were interspersed with flashes of a sickly green light and the faint echo of a woman's screams. He had been having dreams like that for as long as he could remember, especially after a bad day. However, this had been only the third such dream that year, and the worst one he'd had since he broke his arm when he was five.

When Harry woke the next morning to the sound of his Aunt Petunia rapping on the door to his cupboard, he reluctantly left his bed in the corner and, with the small light as his guide, got dressed. For his cousin Dudley getting dressed in such cramped quarters would be quite a chore, but even though Harry was not quite as thin as he had been, he still had room to spare in his cupboard. When he woke, he did not remember his dream of the night before, but the uneasiness and fright it induced in him remained regardless.

Begrudgingly he trudged downstairs to start his Aunt's breakfast, making a muffin for her before starting on the bacon and eggs for his Uncle and cousin's breakfasts. As he worked, slowly mixing the muffin batter, he reflected on how awful the day, and the rest of summer, would be.

These thoughts were abruptly interrupted by a most unexpected knock on the door. What could anyone want at seven in the morning on the first day of summer? Harry continued working, confident that his Aunt would answer the door. She did sure enough, and as he turned over a piece of sizzling bacon he could hear voices travelling to his ears from the hall.

After a few minutes, his Aunt's voice could be heard, screeching, "You're one of HER lot, aren't you? The boy won't be going anywhere with you!"

Harry's ears perked up at this. He wasn't sure what was going on in the hall, but it livened up what was sure to be an otherwise boring day. Above him he could hear creaking as Uncle Vernon heard the shouting below and woke up.

Another few murmurs reached Harry's ears as he strained to listen, and then… "NO! She went off with that awful Snape boy and then she got herself blown up! The boy will stay where he is!"

Harry wondered what boy she was talking about. He was the only one he knew whom she referred to as boy, but no one would want to take him anywhere. Maybe Dudley had annoyed her really badly? Or maybe they were talking about one of Aunt Marge's dogs? And who had gotten blown up?

Another screech came from the hall, but Harry could not make out the words. He winced, as the screaming was beginning to hurt his ears. Behind him on the stairs, Uncle Vernon was walking down, obviously angry at being woken up. "Well boy?" he asked, his mustache bristling dangerously, "what's going on?"

"I don't know, Uncle Vernon," Harry replied. "Aunt Petunia's arguing with someone outside."

Uncle Vernon stomped past Harry to the front door, and after a few moments his booming voice joined the cacophony. The loud noises travelled to the kitchen clearly, but by this point they were so jumbled up Harry couldn't distinguish individual words.

A few more moments and Dudley lumbered down the stairs, throwing himself into his seat and asking dumbly, "What's going on?"

Harry could only shrug as the noise continued. He finished the bacon and dropped the fatty pieces onto Dudley's and Uncle Vernon's plates. From the hallway came a decrease in volume as the argument began dying down. After a few more minutes of quieter talking, in which Harry began eating the burnt scraps that were his breakfast, his Uncle came walking back.

"Boy," he said, looking at Harry with an expression he couldn't recognize, "go see your Aunt in the front."

Harry, confused, followed his Uncle's directions. What could his Aunt want with him? He pondered the thought as he walked slowly past the table to the hall. Maybe she wanted to carry someone's bags or something?

His jaw dropped open and all thoughts fled from his mind as he turned the corner and looked to the front door. Harry stared in astonishment as he saw Millie grinning back at him next to her mother, and Aunt Petunia gritting her teeth in anger.

"Harry," his Aunt said in a falsely sweet tone, "Mrs. Bulstrode has kindly agreed to take you shopping with her sometime next week." Harry smiled in delight and utter amazement. Aunt Petunia continued, "In return, you are going to clean the Bulstrodes' house once a week for the rest of the summer."

Aunt Petunia did not look at all happy about any of this, but Harry felt his excitement grow with each word. All of that was amazing, even cleaning out the Bulstrodes' house. He would be able to see a real magical house, one with moving paintings and huge libraries and everything! And he would be able to see Millie! And not only that, but he was going to get to see Diagon Alley and go shopping for magical sweets and see broomsticks and all sorts of stuff like that! In the space of three minutes, the prospects for Harry's summer had changed from being awful to being absolutely amazing.

But…Harry looked at Millie questioningly. Why would Aunt Petunia agree to something like this when she obviously hated the idea? She wasn't even getting anything out of the deal. Millie, reading his look correctly, motioned to the door. Harry shook his head, making a slight motion to his Aunt. She wouldn't want him to go outside, at least until he cleaned the house completely.

Millie looked to her mother. "Mother, could Harry and I go outside and play?"

Aunt Petunia looked ready to burst. "The boy can't go leave until he finishes his chores." She was careful to keep a pleasant tone, but she looked like it was causing her physical pain to be nice to Harry and the Bulstrodes.

Mrs. Bulstrode smiled pleasantly at Harry's Aunt. "Oh, come now Mrs. Dursley. Surely Harry can finish his chores later in the day? Let them have their fun."

Harry expected Aunt Petunia to immediately say no, but to his surprise she, looking like she was going to choke on her words as they came out of her mouth, said irritably "I suppose that he can finish his work later in the day."

He stared at his Aunt in shock at her words. She was letting him postpone his chores. What was going on today? Aunt Petunia noticed him staring and snarled at him. "Well boy? What are you waiting for? Go and play with your little friend."

Harry nearly whooped with joy and immediately ran out the door, followed closely by Millie. When the pair was out of sight of the house, Harry turned to his friend and all the questions that he had came bursting out in a flood. "What just happened? How did your mum convince Aunt Petunia to let me go to Diagon Alley? And why was Aunt Petunia acting so nice? When are we going to Diagon Alley? When do I get to go and help clean your house? What is your house like?"

Millie grinned back at him. They were walking to the playground that the pair always went to, an abandoned one that was still in somewhat working order. She responded to his questions with a laughing "Slow down Harry! One question at a time."

Harry smiled back, his joy bursting out as he realized that his summer would be more than bearable, it would actually be fun. "Sorry," he said sheepishly, "got a bit carried away." He then continued in a more serious tone. "How _did_ your mum convince Aunt Petunia to let me out, anyway?"

His friend, still grinning, said, "I think mother offered your Uncle money." Her smile faltered a bit. "I dunno why, though. My father's always complaining that he doesn't make enough money at the Cannons. This is the second time they've offered to pay something for you. I don't understand it."

"Do you think we should just ask them?" Harry asked, curiously. He would never even think of doing something like that with his Aunt and Uncle, or his teachers at school, but _they_ were Muggles. He wondered if it was different with wizards.

She shook her head. "I don't think so. Anyway, I don't think they're going to do anything to hurt you. I just don't know why they're doing this." Millie was obviously frustrated by not understanding her parents' motivation.

"Yeah, it's weird, isn't it?" He did understand Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia though. Even the chance of making money would spur his Uncle to make a deal with the devil, and he would make Aunt Petunia support anything he did. Besides, for all that the Bulstrodes were wizards, they didn't _look_ weird or abnormal.

As Harry was pondering the thought, he saw the top of the playground swing set over the trees and his other thoughts left his mind. "Last one to the swings is a yellow Niffler!" Millie laughed and the pair began racing down the street to their playground, doubts and worries forgotten in the joy of youth.

The rest of the week passed in an atmosphere of joyful anticipation for Harry, as he waited for the trip to Diagon Alley. He and Millie managed to sneak out for a few hours each day to play on the swings and talk. Mostly they talked about the upcoming trip, but they also spent some time in a corner of the playground eating food Millie had sneaked out of her house.

Finally the day arrived when Mrs. Bulstrode came to take Harry to Diagon Alley. Harry woke up really early that morning, being sure to dodge a trip wire Dudley had gotten as a present for finishing the school year and placed across his cupboard door. He walked downstairs and, excitement bubbling in his stomach, began to cook breakfast for the Dursleys. Even though he knew the Bulstrodes wouldn't arrive for another hour, he was constantly turning his head to glance at the hallway for a knock.

When Aunt Petunia came down, she was glowering at Harry balefully as he turned his head again to the hallway. "They won't be here for another hour, boy," she snapped. "Can't wait to go to that place for weirdoes and freaks, can you?"

Harry was surprised by her words. This was the angriest he had ever seen Aunt Petunia get, even worse than the time his hair had grown back the day after being cut. He stared at her in astonishment for a few seconds, before belatedly turning back to the stove to keep the bacon from burning.

The next hour passed unbearably slowly for Harry as he waited in desperate anticipation for the knock on the door. He barely even noticed the burnt taste of the bacon in his mouth as his anxiety grew. Finally, the knock came, and Harry jumped out of his chair so quickly he nearly toppled his plate off the table. His Uncle gave him a glare, but Harry barely noticed as he sprinted to the front door and opened it.

Outside Millie and her parents stood smiling at him. Millie grinned at him wildly as he opened the door, and she ran inside immediately to stand next to him. Aunt Petunia, obviously dreading it, followed Harry to the door and greeted the visitors with some politeness, though it was certainly forced.

"Hello, Mrs. Dursley," said Mr. Bulstrode. Harry thought he could hear a bit of contempt in the older man's voice. "Do you mind if we step inside?"

"Of course not, Mr. Bulstrode. It's nice to finally meet you." Aunt Petunia seemed even more sour than usual. "Come on into the kitchen."

"Thank you, Mrs. Dursley…do you mind if I call you Petunia? Thank you Petunia." Aunt Petunia looked like she would have a heart attack at Mrs. Bulstrode's casual familiarity. From Millie's grin, Harry though that was probably her mother's intention.

Uncle Vernon came out at that point, as the three visitors were ushered inside. To Harry's utter surprise, he looked almost jovial when he came out to greet them. "Ah, Mrs. Bulstrode. And this would be your husband? Nice to meet you." After a moment, Harry realized that this was the character Uncle Vernon put on when he was trying to impress clients. Harry remembered peeking out from his cupboard one night that winter and listening to Uncle Vernon and the rest of the Dursleys trying to get a contract from a set of dinner guests.

This time Harry was completely sure he saw a sneer on Mr. Bulstrode's face, one that was mimicked on his wife's face as well. "It's very nice to meet you, Mr. Dursley."

"Would you like something to eat, Mr. Bulstrode? A cup of tea?" The kindness on Uncle Vernon's face was obviously faked, just as fake as the same expression on each of the other three adults. Harry nearly laughed out loud looking at the pained expression on all four adults, each looking like they would rather be anywhere else, but each pretending that they were happy to be there. He didn't quite understand what was going on, or why they would all be pretending to be polite when they obviously hated their counterparts, but it was very entertaining, to be sure.

As the visitors were brought into the kitchen, Harry thought that Mr. Bulstrode looked like he would like to punch Uncle Vernon for a second, looking from Dudley to Harry in a sidelong glance. However, that look vanished as soon as it appeared, to be replaced yet again by a forced politeness.

"No thank you, Mr. Dursley. We will just be going now, from your living room if you don't mind."

Aunt Petunia looked like she would faint at this pronouncement. "You're going to use your freakishness in _my_ kitchen?" She asked, in a quiet voice, with the faintest trace of a tremor.

"Nothing to worry about, Petunia," Mrs. Bulstrode said, looking like she was enjoying Aunt Petunia's discomfort.

Meanwhile, as the adults were talking, Millie pulled Harry over to a corner. She was jubilant, incredibly excited to be showing her friend the wonders of Diagon Alley. "You ready, Harry?"

She saw that Harry had a huge smile on his face, the biggest she had seen the entire year. He answered "Yeah, I can't wait! What are we going to do at Diagon Alley?"

Millie answered with a grin, thinking of all the places she would show Harry. "Well, my mother wants us to go to Gladrags, to get some clothes. Then we're going to go to Flourish and Blott's to get my mother some books. I want to get a book on Beater tactics there, and maybe another one on jinxes and hexes. Then we can go to Fortescue's for some ice cream. Then my father's promised we can go to Quality Quidditch Supplies to look at broomsticks."

Harry grinned at that last. Millie had been talking about going to see the broomsticks the entire week, and she couldn't wait to show Harry them. Harry was about to respond to her, but at that moment, Mr. Bulstrode called both of them over.

The Dursleys looked like they were ready to have a fit, but Uncle Vernon was holding Aunt Petunia's shoulder and whispering in her ear. Dudley was nowhere to be seen.

"Are you two ready?" He glanced back at the Dursleys for a moment. "Don't worry, Mrs. Dursley. This will not cause any harm to your kitchen." He looked back to the two children. "Here we go."

Mr. Bulstrode put a hand on Millie's shoulder just at the same time as Mrs. Bulstrode put one on Harry's and the world dissolved in grey light as Millie felt herself squeezed in the odd sensation of Apparition. She opened her eyes again to see the distinctive white marble building of Gringotts bank in front of them. Turning to her left, Millie saw Harry, pale as a ghost, bent over and looking quite sickly.

"What was that?" Harry asked, gasping for breath.

Millie rushed over to him and pulled him up. "Harry, are you all right?" she asked with concern. "That was Apparition. I forgot you hadn't done that before."

Hearing her voice, Harry looked up and, to Millie's great amusement, his jaw dropped and his eyes widened comically. He looked around in amazement, taking in the sights. Millie, having only been at Diagon Alley once before, joined him in examining the wonders around them. There was Madam Malkin's, therewas Flourish and Blott's, there were shops for pets, for potions supplies, for anything you might ever want. And _there_ was Quality Quidditch Supplies, with broomsticks in the windows and all sorts of wonders inside.

All around them were bustling witches and wizards, wearing clothes of every color and description. She saw one wizard who was wearing, of all things, a dark blue ball gown. There were even a few among the crowd of people wearing dragon-hide robes, and at least two walking by were wearing Quidditch robes. Noise and confusion filled the air. The door of every store on the street was being constantly opened and closed as wizards and witches walked in and out. In front of Quality Quidditch a crowd of children had gathered, staring at a broomstick that was hidden from Millie's sight by the door, wedged open to allow for the stream of people going in and out.

Millie took a step towards the Quidditch store, dragging Harry with her, but Mrs. Bulstrode stopped her before she could get far.

"Wait, Millicent, Harry. First we have to get some clothes at Gladrag's Wizard Wear." Millie felt some disappointment, but besides her Harry looked just as excited as ever. "Antoine, get some money from our vault, and meet me at Flourish and Blott's. I have enough with me to get the two children some clothes."

Mr. Bulstrode left them behind as he strode into the white marbled building that was Gringotts. Mrs. Bulstrode began walking to the left, beckoning Harry and Millie to follow her. She led them off the main street of Diagon Alley into a small alley. It was as brightly lit as the main street, and was filled with bustle as well, but it seemed a bit shabbier. They passed a small shop with a swinging sign proudly proclaiming _Merlin's Best: Antiques and Ancient Artefacts. _A short, thin witch wearing bright green robes walked out of the shop as they passed, carrying an odd cup.

Millie bent over to whisper in Harry's ear. "I think that's supposed to be a goblet from Merlin's time. Auntie Barker says most of the stuff in the shop is junk, though."

A bit further along was a store, in front of which a fat wizard stood, yelling, "Second hand books! Come along, folks, and get books, tomes and scrolls of all kinds! Half price today, just for you!"

Mrs. Bulstrode pointedly ignored the fellow, striding past him to turn into a large shop with clothing hanging in the windows. "Here we are," she said, "wait here for a moment, while I talk to the shop owner.

Millie saw Harry looking around in amazement, staring at all the robes hanging on the shelves, and the floating candles above them. "This is nothing compared to Madam Malkin's," she whispered, "but we can't afford that. My father says I'll get my school robes there when we go to Hogwarts, but until then we get clothes here."

Harry didn't seem to hear her, since he was so engrossed in peering up at the floating candles. Millie laughed at his preoccupation, and made her own study of the room. Around them were dozens of robes of all sizes and colors, even bright pink and a nauseating shade of green. Millie's mother was talking in a corner to a grey haired wizard. Whatever they were talking about was obviously engrossing, for the wizard was staring at Millie's mother with a face of surprise and perhaps disbelief. In another corner a pretty blond witch was stacking boxes on a shelf, while next to her another one was writing things down on a piece of parchment attached to her clipboard.

Finally, the grey haired wizard ended his conversation with Millie's mother and walked over to another witch, an older woman whom Millie had not noticed. After a brief conversation, the older witch moved to Harry and Millie and told them to hold still for a moment. She waved her wand at a pile of tape measures in a corner, and, to Harry's obvious delight, the tape measures began dancing around the pair, measuring their every dimension.

On a small table next to them, a pair of quills were writing on pieces of parchment, dancing across the page as quickly as the Falmouth Falcons' Seeker, Charles Grey, flying for the Snitch. At the thought, Millie winced a little, remembering the Falcons crushing the Cannons in the first round of the playoffs two weeks before. Her father had been growling about everything for nearly five days, angry about the loss.

Suddenly, the peace in the shop was destroyed by the door being thrown open loudly. Two boys ran through the doorway, sprinting into the shop and ignoring the shouts of the store employees. The boys were identical, with bright red hair atop their heads, looking a few years older than Harry and Millie. They ran into the shop and, seeing the two children already inside, hid behind them.

"Hide us." One of the boys said, urgently, to the bewildered Harry.

"Oh no, here she comes," said the other, looking to the door.

Harry and Millie turned to look at the door as well, which crashed open yet again. Framed in the doorway was a very small girl, freckled and red faced. To Harry and Millie's surprise and confusion, her hair was a very dark green, hanging down her shoulders and making her look very funny.

She stomped into the store, looking around angrily." She spotted the pair hiding behind Harry and started shouting at them. "Fred! George! Turn it back." She looked close to tears, even as she was yelling loudly.

The two redheads turned and ran, closely pursued by the green haired girl. The scene was completed by yet another redhead, his fussy appearance accentuated by round horn-rimmed glasses, running through the door of the shop, shouting, "Fred, give me back my new wand!" When this final redhead ran through the store and disappeared out the back door following the other running children, Harry and Millie stared dumbly after them. Finally, they both collapsed into laughter.

"That was weird," said Harry, when he had finally collected himself.

"Very weird," agreed Millie, her frame still racked by her chuckles.

After a moment, the store returned to its previous calm. The older witch standing by the pair of children shook her head in disapproval. She then collected the quills, which had continued writing throughout the disturbance and looked at the parchments. Walking to the corner of the shop, she handed them to the brown haired witch with the clipboard. After a moment, the three witches in the corner conferred with Millie's mother, and found a few boxes on the shelves. The older woman walked back to the pair with the boxes in her arms.

"Here y'are, laddie, lassie." She said, with a distinct Scottish accent. "Three robes each."

Millie opened the top box cautiously and peered inside. There was a black robe in the box, well-made but slightly tattered. Looking over at Harry, she saw that he had a very similar robe in his arms.

As she happened to be looking his way, she also saw the Scottish witch give Harry a very peculiar look as he wiped his hair out of his eyes. All of a sudden the witch gasped, her eyes widening. Harry, still looking in delight at his new robes, did not notice the older witch doing anything odd, but Millie did.

Millie distinctly heard the witch mutter under her breath. "Oh, Merlin. Harry Potter hisself, in me own shop. What an honor, what an honor."

Millie stared at the witch in surprise, and some trepidation. Instinctively she knew that this related closely to all of the things that her mother and father had done for Harry already. But why would the witch know his name, and why would she say it was an honor?

As her mother counted off golden Galleons to hand to the gray-haired storekeeper, Millie decided that she would figure out the mystery around Harry's name, and find out why he was so important.


	6. The Boy Who Lived

**Sorry for the delay for this posting. It's kind of funny that I had less time during winter break and the first two weeks back than I did throughout exams. I have barely had any moments free for all of the last week, and only a little the week before. **

**Thanks to everyone for reading and reviewing my story. I hope you enjoy it.**

**To Penseln: Thanks for the reviews. I'm glad that my comments make sense to you, and that you enjoy the story. I really appreciate all the questions, since they really help **_**me**_** flesh out the story in my own head.**

**As for your question, well, I'm not really sure. As for Lupin, I kind of have a scene in my head about how they will first meet on the train in third year, and the differences. I guess I'll probably have it in Lupin's point of view, expressly to point out how my characters are different than we know of them in canon. Incidentally, if that scene plays out like I'm thinking, of the four people other than Harry in the car in canon, one will be in my story, and there will be one or two others in the car who are fairly minor characters in canon. I'm curious to see what your guess will be on who they are. As a hint, they are not Slytherins, at least in canon.**

**However, I really don't know how Lupin, Black, Tonks, and the rest of the Order of the Phoenix will react to Harry and Millie, being the Slytherins they are. Sirius especially will be a wild card here. I don't know if he will be more repulsed by Harry's snakiness (yes, I made up that word), or attracted by his love for his godson. At the very least their relationship will be a lot different from in canon. **

**Bella? I can't really see myself writing her as anything other than an evil madwoman, to be honest, but that's mostly just because of my own writing skills. I couldn't really do justice in changing the perception of her character because of my own lack in writing emotions and feelings. Could you tell me what stories have a more well-rounded view of Bellatrix? That could be really interesting.**

**As for Tonks, I love her character a lot, so she will definitely play a major part. I think she'll probably appear earlier than she did in canon. However, she won't appear in first year, for two main reasons. First of all, I think that a big part of first year, in canon as well as in my story, is Harry and his friends (whoever they may be) trying to figure out the mystery on their own. With a seventh year friend, a lot of that is lost. My second reason is a lot more basic, and it's pretty much that I think that Tonks is more than just six years older than Harry. I'm not really certain, but I think that she was in the same year as Charlie Weasley, who I think graduated two or three years before Harry came to Hogwarts. **

**To Bookivore: Thank you very much for your comment and PM. The suggestions are very helpful. I sent you a second PM back, but since you haven't responded, I'm not sure if you got it. Thanks a lot, anyway.**

**To anybody who reads my story: I really appreciate comments, especially criticisms. I am just starting out at writing, so if you have any criticism or suggestions, they are incredibly helpful. In addition, I'd be really grateful if people followed both Bookivore and Penseln's example in asking questions and giving suggestions for the rest of the story. That helps me immensely.**

**On another note, would anyone be interested in being a beta reader for me for the story? It's not so much grammar or spelling (since I think I've got that fairly well), but more keeping people in character and not going off topic.**

**I hope you enjoy this chapter. I'm not sure if the scene of Harry and Millie fighting is overblown a bit, but I think that's the kind of thing little kids do sometimes. I know my little sisters can get angry for no apparent reason. **

**I hope my descriptions of Millie's 'instinct' thing made sense. I actually had mostly forgotten about the 'people senses' that Millie has, but a comment from Bookivore reminded me of them. So, thanks.**

**About the Weasleys, they still won't be as close with them as Harry was in canon, the suggestion in this chapter notwithstanding. The Weasleys will, however, have met Harry and Millie before Hogwarts, and they will know each other relatively well. As for Ginny, this story obviously isn't a Harry/Ginny story, since it is Harry/Millie. However, I like Ginny, so she will play a fairly important role in the story. She actually will be in the story more than in canon, as a matter of fact. Incidentally, she will be a Gryffindor, though, since I think making her Slytherin would be stealing from the really good Grey Maiden series by Chris Widger.**

**Anyway, here's the story, hope you enjoy, and please read and review. **

**Disclaimer: If I've said it once, I've said it a hundred times. I don't own Harry Potter. I wish I did…but I don't. Sorry.**

Despite Millie's internal promise, however, the strange reaction of the witch in Gladrag's was soon forgotten as her mother led the pair, newly attired in black robes, back out onto the street. Rather than turning around and returning the way they had come, as one might expect, Millie's mother continued down the side alley, passing sever more stores into which Harry stared eagerly.

Despite the knowledge of Diagon Alley and its environs that Millie had learned from listening to her mother and Aunt talk, she could not help being drawn in by Harry's open enthusiasm. Thus, she spent the walk dragging Harry by his hand to look at interesting sights. After a few shabby looking shops, in whose windows could be seen various odds and ends, including what Millie could have sworn was a _wooden_ cauldron, of all things, the alley began again to brighten and look more well tended.

To Millie's bewilderment, her mother led them past Arnie Entwhistle's Artifices and Enchantments, an intriguing shop with small baubles flitting in the windows, onto a wide street. Millie looked around in amazement. This was Diagon Alley again! They had emerged onto the Alley three shops down from Flourish and Blott's, and five down from Quality Quidditch the other way down the Alley.

Harry stared from the alley behind them to the distant silhouette of Gringott's in the distance, his eyes wide. "But we went in a straight line," he protested, "how could we have ended up here? We started out over there." He pointed to the side of the street by Gringott's, where the edge of Merlin's Best was visible.

Millie hid her own shock to whisper self-importantly in her friend's ear, "It's Diagon Alley. What can you expect?"

Harry looked at her in surprise for a moment, before she burst into giggles, unable to hold a straight face any longer. Harry grinned back at her.

"You had no idea, did you?" he asked.

"Of course not," she replied. "Now come on. We've go to catch up to my mother." Millie dragged Harry through the crowded street towards the rapidly disappearing back of her mother.

The pair was nearly at Flourish and Blott's, into which Millie's mother had gone, when Harry tripped over the hem of his new and unfamiliar robes. He quickly overbalanced and fell forward, pulling Millie with him to land in a heap on the hard ground.

"Oof," he cried, his breath expelling from him in a woosh. "Get your elbow off my stomach."

Millie scowled at Harry from her position on the ground next to him. "Only if you get your knee off my leg."

With much grumbling and bickering, the pair got themselves extricated from their position and stood up. Millie, still glaring at Harry, muttered something under her breath about his being a clumsy idiot.

"Well, you're the one who was holding my hand," Harry grumbled rebelliously. "That's why you landed on me."

"But if you had been able to walk straight without falling on your face, we wouldn't have had to worry about it," Millie said.

"Oh, come on, Millie," Harry said. "You're just as clumsy, or else you would have been able to keep from falling."

"You pulled me!" Millie shouted incredulously. "How can you say it's my fault?"

"Because you should have let go of my hand when I fell!" Harry responded heatedly.

The argument had grown now, but most of the adult witches and wizards walking by did not pay much heed to the two seven year olds shouting at each other at the edge of the street.

"I couldn't. You fell, you clumsy idiot!" Millie shouted back.

"Why were you holding my hand, then?" Harry yelled.

"'Cuz I'm your friend!" Millie bellowed.

"Then maybe I don't want to be your friend anymore!" Harry shouted, still caught up in the heat of the moment.

"Fine!" Millie turned on her heels and walked away in a huff.

Harry stared at her retreating form for a moment as she walked into Flourish and Blott's, horrified by what he had just said. Had he just lost the only friend he had ever had?

After a moment's panic, he rushed into the bookstore after her. When he walked through the door, he paused in shock. At another time he would have been awed by the sheer quantity of books around him, but right then he was more horrified about how much space he had to search to find Millie. Looking around, he set out for the section on jinxes and hexes, hoping to find his best friend there. _Or was it former best friend?_ He thought mournfully.

That worry only increased when he could not find her in the section of books he was at. They had planned to go there when they came to the bookstore and he could not think of where else she would be. After searching through the shelves for three times, Harry sat down hard against a shelf of books and closed his eyes. Despite his best efforts, he could feel a tear slip under his eyelid. He dwelled in his misery for what felt like hours. Now he would have to return to school without his friend. And Millie would probably leave school now, and she definitely wouldn't get as good grades without his help. And Dudley would be able to beat him up all the time. He had just ruined everything. What had started out as the best summer in his memory had turned into his worst ever in the space of less than a day.

All of a sudden, a thought struck him and Harry jumped up and rushed out of the spell books section. He ran back to the ground floor of the bookstore and over to…he hoped against hope that she would be there…Yes! There was Millie, sitting by the shelf of books on Quidditch and holding a small book in her arms. Harry was about to run over to her, but stopped abruptly. Would she still want to be his friend after he had told her he didn't want to be hers?

"Millie?" he whispered tentatively, prepared for rejection.

She looked up and he was shocked to see tears running down her face. Then there was no chance to see anything more because she was up and running, throwing her book to the side and nearly bowling Harry over with her hug.

Harry felt awful to see Millie's tear stricken face, and to know it was his fault. "I'm sorry, Millie," he said miserably. "It was my fault."

"No, it was mine." Millie sounded as awful as Harry was sure he did himself. "I shouldn't have called you clumsy."

Harry felt close to breaking out in tears again. "But I said I didn't want to be friends anymore. How can you say it's your fault?"

Millie responded, a slight tremor in her voice. "But you _do_ still want to be friends with me…right?"

Harry felt even more dreadful to see Millie in such a state. "Of course, Millie. I'll always be friends with you. I didn't really mean what I said."

Millie looked incredibly relieved. "Oh. Good. Friends forever, okay?"

"Yeah, I promise." Harry sat down heavily next to Millie against the bookshelf. In a conscious effort to ignore their fight, he asked, "so…whatcha reading?"

Millie gave him a slightly watery smile and picked up the discarded book to show to him. It was a small brown book, with a zooming Bludger and a Beater in purple Quidditch robes on the cover. "It's a book on Beater tactics," She said. The book's title read _The 25 Best Beater Plays of All Time_. Opening the book, she pointed out a diagram of a play, complete with moving symbols representing the fourteen players on a Quidditch pitch.

"See," she said, "In his play the Beaters focus on one Bludger and knock it between them back and forth. Then they fly past an opposing Chaser formation on both sides, and the Bludger breaks up the play."

Harry watched the two blue bats representing the Beaters passing on either side of a group of three red gloves representing the Chasers. As the Beaters passed by, the symbol for the Bludger smashed through the red gloves and they scattered. A blue glove swooped in and, with the red ball that was the Quaffle attached to his symbol, began flying back towards the opposing goal posts. As he watched, the play reset and the red gloves began flying in formation again, with the Beaters approaching them from the front.

"But isn't there another Bludger?" Harry asked, confused.

Millie answered, "Yeah. Dad says that's the problem with the play. You need to have a really good front three or your opponents' Beaters have to be really bad if you want to even try it."

"Oh." Harry responded. He supposed that made sense. Then, he realized something Millie had said. "Millie, did you know that's the first time I've heard you call your father Dad?

"Oh, did I call him Dad?" Millie asked.

Harry replied, "Yeah. Why don't you normally? And why did you just then?"

"I dunno," responded Millie. "My father's usually sort of distant…he's even said I might as well be a Squib. But when he's talking about Quidditch, he's really my Dad, you know?"

"I suppose," Harry said, although he really didn't understand. He had never known parents, so he couldn't conceive of having someone who acted like a Dad sometimes, but not always. But he didn't say that, and instead asked, "Does he a lot? Talk about Quidditch, I mean."

"Depends on his mood. A couple of weeks ago, his old team, the Falmouth Falcons, beat us, and he was angry for nearly a week. But I remember in April, right about when you met them, actually, the Cannons crushed Montrose. He was ecstatic for three weeks straight and actually brought me to practice twice."

Harry smiled, and asked, "Do you think your Dad might bring me to a game once? You've told me all about Quidditch, but I've never actually seen a game."

"Maybe. I'll ask him. I'll try and see if I can get a wireless set for you, too, so you can listen to games. I've got one in my room."

"Thanks!" Harry grinned. The thought of seeing a Quidditch game with Millie, or even just listening to one on the wireless, was absolutely brilliant. Then his good mood sobered a little bit. "Millie? Do you think I could ever play Quidditch?" he asked in a tentative tone. Harry was sure that Millie would, but he had never been good at anything, so why would Quidditch be any different?

Millie responded with a smile. "Of course you can, Harry. You've got just the right body type to be a brilliant Seeker."

Harry smiled, but then it faltered a bit. "But I want to be a Beater with you. I don't want to be a Seeker."

Millie's smile lit up her face. Harry was glad that his comment had made her happy, and it was definitely the truth. If he was going to play Quidditch, it would definitely be together with his best, and first, friend. "That would be great!" she said. "With us on the team, Slytherin will—"

Their discussion was interrupted by the sound of Millie's mother's voice. "Millicent. Harry. Are you done now?"

Harry smacked his forehead. "Oh! We forgot to get that book on jinxes."

Millie shrugged. "It's okay. I'll just see if I can sneak one out of my parents' library. Come on, let's bring this book to my mother."

Harry looked at Millie with worry in his eyes. Maybe their argument had affected her worse than he had thought. The smile had vanished right off of her face when their discussion had been interrupted. Even worse, Harry knew that she had been thinking about finding a new book on jinxes for days, and it was unlike her to just give up on something like that.

Millie, not noticing Harry's attentive gaze, stood up and walked to where her mother was standing, holding two gigantic tomes in her arms.

As they approached, Harry whispered in Millie's ear, "What does your Mum do?"

Millie, slightly taller than her friend, bent a little to whisper back, "Mother's a researcher for _Transfiguration Weekly_. She was a Ravenclaw at Hogwarts, you know."

Harry was still curious about his friend's mother's job, but before he could ask any more questions, Mr. Bulstrode came to them. "Hello Harry, Millicent. What books did you pick out?"

Millie raised the book to show to her father. At the sight, a genuine smile, though very small, graced the older wizard's lips, and Harry saw how it transformed his face entirely, from a closed book to that of a doting parent. Or, at least, an expression that was the closest to a parental one that he could pull out.

Obviously that expression was effective, for Millie's face broke out into a grin, even wider than the one she had worn when Harry had promised to play Beater with her at Hogwarts.

"Very good choice, Millicent," he said. "Have you looked at any of the plays yet?"

"I showed Harry the Bagman Cross."

Mr. Bulstrode's lips, though they had returned to their customary neutral expression, twitched a bit at the information. He looked to be about to respond when an interruption came from his wife.

"Antoine, bring any books the children got over her," she said, sharply.

There was a sad expression on Millie's face as her father walked away again, and Harry could not bear to see it. He gave his friend a hug and said, "c'mon, Millie. Cheer up, we're gonna get ice cream next."

Millie managed a smile, and as soon as her mother paid for the books, she rushed outside with Harry, her excitement slowly regaining. The pair followed Mr. and Mrs. Bulstrode to Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor and went to the counter to order.

When Harry went to order, Millie noticed the shop keeper again have an odd reaction to seeing Harry. This one, though hid it well, and Harry, engrossed in picking between a Salamander Sundae and a Newttail Fudge, did not notice. Millie, however, did notice, and when she looked at the shop keeper she could feel something odd about him as he looked at Harry. For some reason, he was looking at her friend in admiration.

When the pair sat down at a table, situated so that the Bulstrodes could see them through the window of the store across the street, the Apothecary, Millie whispered to Harry the reactions that both store keepers had had to him that day.

"People have been staring at me all day?" he asked incredulously. "Why haven't I noticed anything?"

Millie laughed. "Come on Harry, you're not the most observant person. Remember when we first met? You ran right into me because you didn't notice me standing there. Besides, you've been distracted all day by all the cool magic and people."

Harry shrugged. "I guess you're right. Anyway, _you_ have an advantage. I think. Do your instincts have anything to do with what you've noticed?"

Harry was genuinely curious on this point. The pair had discussed the ability that Millie seemed to have, but neither was sure exactly how it worked. It did seem to work less on Muggles, but other than that they really couldn't tell much about it. For that matter, they weren't even exactly sure what it did, other than that it could tell stuff about other people.

"I dunno," she responded. "It's kind of weird. I didn't feel anything from the first one, but when I was standing at the counter for the Ice Cream, I felt like the shop keeper was in awe of you or something." Millie grinned at her friend. "Which is weird, 'cuz there's really not much of you to be in awe of."

"Come on, Millie, it's not my fault I'm skinny," Harry protested.

Millie often teased her friend on his relative scrawniness and shortness compared to her. In a way, it made her feel better about her size, since her friend actually envied her for being bigger and larger. Everyone else she had ever met had always thought badly of her for being larger and possibly a bit fat.

Millie smiled again, and said, "I know. That's why you've got to fatten you up, if you want to play Beater with me."

Harry grinned back, his mouth full of the last of his Fudge. "And that's why I've gotta eat Fudge and ice Cream."

"Yeah. Now come on, we've got to go to Quality Quidditch now." Millie took Harry by his arm and dragged him out of the store.

As the pair began walking towards the Quidditch store, passing by Flourish and Blott's again, Harry chuckled a bit. "Hey, isn't that the same girl we saw before in Gladrag's?"

Millie looked where he was pointing behind them. A huge group of people was walking down the street, all with flaming red hair on their heads. There was a small girl in the midst of the pack, who certainly did seem familiar. "Didn't she have green hair, though?" This girl had long red hair, not the nauseating green of the other.

Harry didn't have a chance to respond, however, because as Millie looked at the family following them, she stumbled. A sudden feeling passed over her.

Harry looked at her in worry. "Millie, are you okay?"

Millie couldn't respond, still overwhelmed by the feeling that she had just felt. For some reason, she felt like she could trust those people implicitly. She didn't know why, she just knew it. This was definitely the strongest reaction she had ever gotten from her 'instincts,' and it made her feel fairly lightheaded. Even more oddly, this was the first time she had gotten more than one of those feelings in a single day. Before this day, she had only gotten feelings of this type rarely, perhaps once in a month or so, but today she had gotten it twice!

As the group drew nearer, however, Millie felt her attention drawn as if by an outside force to a conversation that was being held between the small girl that Harry had noticed and her father.

"Daddy," the girl said, "can't we go back to the bookstore?"

She was pleading in vain, for Millie heard her father say, "No, Ginny, we can't. We only have enough money to get Percy his cauldron, and then we have to go."

"But Daddy…" the girl said again. "Please?"

"I'm sorry, Gin, but we just can't."

Millie was absolutely shocked at the next words that came out of the young girl's mouth. "But they have a new Harry Potter picture book," she said with longing in her voice. "I want to read it."

All of a sudden, Millie seemed to snap out of the trance she had been in, and realized that Harry was holding her by her shoulder, a look of concern on his face. Millie looked around, and realized that she was leaning on a wall, and she could feel herself panting as if she had run a mile. The family of redheads had already passed by them, and was just going into the Apothecary

Abruptly she noticed that Harry was speaking. "…Millie? Please snap out of it. Millie? C'mon Millie…" She could tell that he was close to panicking.

Millie turned her head to him, and spoke. "Harry, I'm okay."

Harry's look of relief would have been laughable if it had not been for the look of near panic he had on his face before when she had not been responding to his voice. "Millie!" he exclaimed. "What happened?"

Millie shook her head at him. "c'mon!" she said imperatively, pulling him by his hand.

"Where are we going? What happened? Are you all right?" Harry's questions were only answered by a fiercer tug on his hand.

Finally, Millie brought them both to Flourish and Blott's, in front of which they stopped. Harry had a look of confusion on his face. "But we were just here," he said plaintively. "Why are we here again?"

Millie finally answered him. "I heard someone say something funny. I want to find out if it's true."

She began to pull him into the store, but Harry resisted her pull. "But what happened to you? Are you okay?"

"I'm okay, Harry," she responded, impatiently. She didn't' know what that girl had been talking about, but she wanted to find out as soon as possible. A Harry Potter picture book? Why would there be a picture book about her best friend? She could sense she was getting close to some answers, and she wanted them as soon as possible.

"But why did you stumble like that? You looked like you were about to pass out in the middle of the street."

Millie was going to ignore the question again, but the look of concern on Harry's face was too hard to resist. She felt some happiness inside that she had someone to be concerned for her, something that she had not had for as long as she could remember. Even her mother and father had only seemed to care for her _sometimes_, but Harry had not let her down yet.

She responded to his question, "I dunno. I think I had one of those instinct things again."

Harry was now curious as well as concerned. "What about? And they've never affected you like that before, have they?"

Millie just shrugged. "I don't know. It was really weird. I was just looking at all those redheads, when something funny happened. I didn't even realize I was leaning against a wall like that until I spoke to you."

Her friend was excited now. "So, what did the feeling say?" Harry was really happy that his friend now had proof that her talent was better than his. He also was very curious about what kind of things the talent might show.

"Just that we could trust them. It is weird, though, since most of my feelings before today have been about people I've actually met. These people I just saw twice, and suddenly I feel like I can trust them with anything. It's just really weird."

"That's wicked," Harry enthused. He then looked disappointed. "But they've already left. Anyway, how were we supposed to confide in them or something if we don't actually know them?"

"Don't ask me," Millie responded, "I'm just as confused as you. Anyway, I also heard something weird. The little girl said something about a Harry Potter picture book."

Harry just gaped at Millie, his eyes wide. Millie laughed at his expression.

"You're joking, right?" Harry asked.

"No, I'm not. She said that she wanted to read the Harry Potter picture book."

Harry gaped at her for a few more seconds, before darting inside the bookstore, dragging Millie along with him. "There can't really be a Harry Potter picture book," he said, incredulously.

"I agree," Millie said, though she knew that there must actually be one. Her instincts had to have been trying to tell her something, right? They wouldn't just happen to set her off in a fit in the middle of Diagon Alley for no reason, would they? Millie wasn't sure which she was more afraid of, being proved wrong, or being proved right.

Harry led them through the bookstore towards the back. "If that little girl was talking about it, it would be in the children section, right? She looked about two years younger than us."

Millie agreed, and the pair began walking towards the section that they had not looked at earlier in their visit to Flourish and Blott's. There were books on wings flying around them, buzzing at their heads and the heads of the several children lying on couches reading. There were several books which were reading aloud from their own contents, and in a corner a large beanie bag was floating off the ground, with several children hanging on shouting gleefully.

This, however is not what stopped Harry and Millie in astonishment. No, they stopped and stared at a small display right to the left of the children section's entrance.

On top of a shelf a picture stood in a frame. It was a boy's face, one with black hair and a very noticeable lightning bolt scar across his forehead. Harry and Millie stared at it in shock. The boy was different, of course, certainly more healthy looking, without glasses, and with a far more lurid scar than the one on Harry's head. But it was without a doubt the face of Harry Potter.

Harry and Millie stared in shock for a moment, before their eyes travelled to the books on the shelf below the picture. On the top of the shelf in bright blue letters trimmed with gold read the words _Harry Potter: The-Boy-Who-Lived_. Below sat dozens of books, each with the same blue and gold lettering.

"Boy-Who-Lived? What is that supposed to mean?" Harry whispered after a moment.

"I have no idea," Millie whispered back, just as stunned.

After another few seconds of flabbergasted staring, the pair rushed forwards in an attempt to learn exactly why there was a picture of Harry in the middle of a bookstore, and why there were books, of all things, written about him.

**I feel like this is a fairly unsatisfying ending, but I needed a good cut off point because otherwise this chapter would be too long. The next chapter carries their reactions, and the first step for both of them to becoming real Slytherins.**


	7. Millie's Aunt Barker

**Okay, sorry it's been a while, but I feel like I've been run over by a herd of Hippogriffs, blasted by several Skrewts, and then burned to a crisp by Norberta the Norwegian Ridgeback. School is awful.**

**On another note, I've moved the author's notes to the end of the story on a request by Mitremlap, who noted that it made it harder to read when I had so much stuff at the beginning.**

**It's sort of funny that all of my chapters are getting longer, even without the authors notes. This is actually something like twice the size of my first chapter.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own J.K. Rowling or any of her work. I do own Antoine, Eugenia and Barker Bulstrode, but they're nothing to J.K. Rowling's characters.**

**And without further ado, onto the story. Please read and especially review. Please, please tell me if there's anything I can do to improve my writing, or anything you think I should change or include in my story. I love feedback and constructive criticism. Thanks.**

Antoine and Eugenia Bulstrode looked around Diagon Alley carefully. They had seen their charges, Harry Potter and their daughter Millicent, vanish into Flourish and Blott's once more, and they did not know why. The pair had been incredibly excited to go to Quality Quidditch Supplies. Eugenia had been watching them carefully as they left Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor, and they had certainly been headed that way. But then her view had been cut off by a large family, one which seemed to all have bright red hair, and when they had moved out of her view, Millie had been leading Harry back to the bookstore.

"What happened to make them want to go back to Flourish and Blott's?" asked Antoine curiously as they walked back up the street.

"I do not know. They were certainly headed for Quality Quidditch when they left the ice cream parlor."

"Well, perhaps they decided to return and get another book." There was some pride in Antoine's voice, and though it perhaps would not be noticeable to another, Eugenia could recognize it for what it was, despite Antoine's control of his emotions.

Eugenia responded, "You do not know it will be another Quidditch book. They might be looking for more books on curses and hexes and the like." Eugenia spoke levelly, but her husband heard the suppressed amusement in it.

The pair certainly looked unemotional to any who saw them, but really they had just long since learned to suppress any outward show of emotions. Proper Purebloods never showed their emotions, after all, and they both knew that only Purebloods could ever hope to hold any positions of real power. The Bulstrode may not have been Pureblood themselves, but they could try to act like them.

Antoine looked curiously at his wife. "More books?" he asked. "They've already looked through such books?"

"Yes. Millicent has snuck several Defense books out of both libraries, as well as a few on Quidditch as well." Eugenia could wish that they had shown some interest in Transfiguration as well, but she could only be happy that Millicent had finally begun to read something other than Quidditch books. "I'm glad she is not shaping up to be the disappointment I had thought."

"And she's hooked Harry Potter himself, as well," said her husband.

Eugenia, precise as always, replied, "Well, not hooked so much as befriended. Unfortunately, I doubt that she is the right quality to be his wife, but perhaps a trusted friend. Either way, she has made a very good alliance."

The pair drew abreast of Flourish and Blott's bookstores, and walked inside. "Where would they be?" asked Antoine. "Would they be in the jinxes section?"

"Perhaps. Let's look around a bit and find them."

Meanwhile, Harry and Millie were sitting in the children section, browsing in awe through the books they had just discovered.

Harry was utterly gobsmacked by the books he found. They were about him! Even in his wildest dreams, the daydreams he'd had while sitting in his cupboard or doing his chores, he'd never once imagined that he would be famous. And famous for something he couldn't remember!

Millie stared at Harry, just as surprised. She had never even thought that her friend could be famous. He didn't look famous, or anything. He just looked like a normal kid. She didn't understand how he could be famous.

Their thoughts were interrupted by Millie's parents showing up.

"Millicent, Harry. What are you doing here?"

Millie looked at them in sudden surmise. "Why didn't you tell us Harry was famous?" She demanded. "Were you just trying to use his fame to make yourself better?"

Harry looked at them in horror as well. He was not surprised, everyone he met eventually ended up using him for their own benefit. He had thought they were different though, as they had treated him kindly, unlike most other adults he had ever met.

Antoine Bulstrode looked at them in surprise. He had not realized that Harry did not know of his own fame. It just never occurred to him to think that the Boy-Who-Lived would not know anything about his own story. He began to try to explain, but Millicent cut him off before he could.

"I don't want to hear it. Just take us home."

Eugenia began to tell Millicent off for being impertinent, but Antoine, taken aback by these new developments, merely took Millicent's hand and Apparated home. Eugenia, her intended target having disappeared, swallowed her irritation and brought Harry back to his Aunt's house.

When they Apparated home from the bookstore, both Harry and Millie were uncharacteristically subdued, as both felt very betrayed. They both felt betrayed by the Bulstrodes of course, for trying to use Harry's fame and for not telling him anything of it. However, as Harry thought of what had he had read, he began to feel anger at his Aunt and Uncle as well, for telling him that his parents were drunkards who had died in a car crash.

Harry had not had time to read much about the particulars of the incident that had killed his parents, given him his scar, and given him his fame. The book had not had too much detail, in any case, and very little about the elder Potters. But Harry had found enough to show that his parents were always spoken of in glowing terms. This fact just fueled Harry's anger, as he had been told all his life that they had been no good lay-a-bouts who had never worked a day in their lives.

Harry was forced to remain at Privet Drive for lunch, but he quickly wolfed down the scraps that were his due, and rushed out to find Millie and discuss these new developments. He soon was out the door, ignoring his Aunt's shouts, and running for his and Millie's playground. He was sure to pay for that later, but at the moment, sitting in his cupboard and doing extra chores did not seem much of a punishment. He simply did not care, as it paled beside the revelations he had just found out that morning.

In no time at all, he had run into the playground and found Millie sitting on a swing, waiting impatiently for him. As soon as she saw him, she jumped up.

"Come on," she ordered, "we've got to find out what's going on."

"What—"

"I'll tell you as we go." Millie said, pulling him by his arm as they set off for her house. Harry had never gone this far from Privet Drive before other than going to school, and he gazed around with an interested eye.

Millie pulled his attention back to her. "We're gonna talk to Auntie Barker," she said, "she'll tell us all about why you're famous and why my parents didn't tell us about it , and why and how they're using you."

Harry stopped suddenly. "You're going to talk to your _Aunt_," he cried, appalled.

His friend stopped as well, staring at him in surprise for a second. Then she slapped her hand to her head. "Oh. Don't worry Harry, my Auntie's a lot nicer than your Aunt. Yours is a Muggle, anyway, so what would you expect?"

Harry still looked reluctant, so Millie took him by the hand and bodily dragged him through the streets. "Auntie Barker's awesome, Harry. She's really nice and she'll be sure to tell us what's going on."

Harry was still not entirely convinced, but he trusted Millie, so he let her drag him along. As they walked, his friend regaled him with tales of all the awesome stories her Auntie had told her, and all the cool magical stuff in her apartment.

Slowly, Harry' foreboding relaxed. Still, Harry felt somewhat afraid, for Millie if not for himself. Both of his own Aunts, Aunt Petunia and Aunt Marge, had always been awful to him. He might know in his head that Millie and he could trust her Aunt, but he didn't know it in his subconscious.

Finally, they reached the end of a block, and Millie pulled him with her down a side street. Harry caught a glance of a street sign that read Wilfram Road before Millie broke into a run, and he was forced to let go of her hand and follow lest he fall over onto the street, pulled down by her grip on his hand.

Harry was faster than Millie, so he quickly caught up with her and was soon running besides her. "Why are we running?" he asked between breaths. They weren't running awfully fast, but he couldn't see a reason why.

"Cuz I wanta get there fast." Millie replied, panting more heavily than Harry. "Auntie Barker leaves to do something or other at one every afternoon. I wanta get there before she leaves."

Millie suddenly stopped. Harry continued running for a second before he realized she wasn't beside him anymore. He turned around to see Millie beckoning him to a house on the side of the street. He could see a silver number 23 on the top of the door knocker. The house did not look at all like what he had imagined a wizard's house to be. In fact, it looked perfectly ordinary.

"Come on." Millie opened the door and darted inside quickly.

Harry followed his friend inside to find before his eyes a sight that was purely magical. He gaped at the moving portraits, which winked and waved merrily at him. It took him a few moments to notice the surprising size of the hall and its surrounding rooms, but when he did his astonishment only increased.

However, before he could do much more than gape, Millie took his arm and dragged him further into the house. Still staring at his incredible surroundings, Harry's brain faintly registered the fact that they were in a room with a flickering fire that seemed to giving off no heat. In fact, to his surprise, the room seemed to only contain the fireplace, as well as a forlorn looking coat stand in the far corner, and a small, seemingly empty pot on the mantelpiece.

Harry looked at Millie questioningly. "What is this room?" He was slightly confused. "I thought that we were going to see your Aunt."

Millie turned to him, her hand halfway to the pot. "What do you—Oh. I forgot you haven't Flooed before."

Floo?" Harry asked, a slight frown on his face. "Sounds like a kind of drink or something."

"No, Harry, you dunderhead," Millie exclaimed "Of course we aren't going to visit my Aunt by drinking something."

Harry, still not following, asked, "So this Floo thing is how we're going to get to your Aunt? How?"

Millie picked up a pinch of an odd looking powder out of the pot on the mantelpiece. "This is how, Harry. You take a pinch of this, put it in the flames, and say where you want to go. Follow me."

She threw the powder into the flames. Harry jumped a little when the fire suddenly flared up and turned a bright green. Millie cheerily said "Barker Bulstrode's," and to Harry's shock, stepped into the fire.

Harry gaped at the fire, now returned to its natural red color, into which his friend had disappeared. What if it didn't work? He didn't have any desire to burn himself. But, then again, Millie had done it easily, like she did it every day. She wouldn't have done so if it could hurt her, would she?

Steeling his nerves, he stepped up to the pot and extended his hand. Harry carefully placed his fingertips to the strange powder inside. It felt slightly soft and springy, even as its small grains slipped across his fingers. He cautiously took a pinch and stared at it curiously.

A voice stopped him from his examination of the powder. "Harry, what are you doing?"

Harry turned in fright, and got the shock of his life to see Millie's head, sitting in the midst of the fireplace and talking to him calmly. He stumbled backwards and tripped over his own feet to land on his backside facing the fire.

Millie burst out laughing. "Oh! Your face, Harry! That was hilarious." Harry glared at Millie's disembodied head until it stopped laughing. "Oh, all right. I'm sorry Harry," she said, not looking very sorry at all. "Now come on! Remember, it's Barker Bulstrode's."

Her face suddenly disappeared from the fire, to leave it looking just as normal as it had before. Harry quickly made up his mind and, before he could lose his nerve, threw some Floo powder into the fire. He said, as clearly as he could, "Barker Bulstrode's," and stepped into the now green flames.

Despite trusting Millie and magic, Harry expected to feel the heat of flames on his feet and body, only to be surprised by the lack of unpleasant burning sensations. Instead of the withering heat Harry more than half expected, he merely felt a fairly comfortable warmness in the pit of his stomach.

However, before he could experience this odd sensation for more than a few moments, his stomach gave a sudden lurch and he felt like he was flying upwards and falling straight down at eh same time. After spinning around himself for what seemed like hours, Harry finally found himself falling forward, landing on his face in a red carpet.

He heard Millie's laughter once again, and saw Millie leaning against a wall above him and grinning for all she could bear. "Harry, that was awful," she said with a grin. She extended her hand to help him up.

Harry glared at her again as he accepted her help, but it was a half-hearted glare at best. It had been pretty funny, after all.

When Harry regained his feet, Millie led him out of the room. They were currently in a room very similar to the one they had just exited at Millie's house. They left through a door on the far wall, and emerged into a sitting room, filled with ratty furniture and old pictures.

Harry looked around the room in bemusement. This was a room that Aunt Petunia, never would have tolerated in her oppressively clean house. For that matter, from what Harry knew of the Bulstrodes they wouldn't have allowed such a mess either. With that thought, Harry allowed himself to relax slightly, accepting that Millie's Aunt Barker was a different sort of person than his own Aunt.

Those thoughts were suddenly and utterly confirmed when the person who was presumably Millie's Aunt herself walked through the door into the room. She was fairly short, and very plump, with a kindly smiling face that did not look at all like the stern visage of the Bulstrodes. Harry could see the familial resemblance with Millie's father, but the smile lines on this Aunt's face where diametrically opposed to the stress lines on the face of Mr. Bulstrode.

She spoke with a voice that sounded just as kindly as she looked. "Hello, Millie dear. What brings you here now? And who might you be?" She looked at Harry questioningly.

Millie responded for Harry. "This is Harry Potter, my best friend."

Millie was watching her Aunt carefully as she told her Harry's last name. She was not disappointed, as Auntie Barker, just as everyone who had heard the name, widened her eyes and looked quickly to his forehead. Unlike the others, however, Auntie Barker got over it immediately.

"Well, hello, Harry Potter. It's very nice to meet you. Millie's told me plenty of stories about the trouble you two get into. Would you like some chocolate?" Auntie Barker turned to a cabinet in the sitting room and took out a bar of chocolate.

Millie and Harry both eagerly took a piece, and began eating it.

"Now, what brings you two here on this fine day?" She asked. "Shouldn't you be outside in the nice weather of summer, dearies?"

Millie responded, "Auntie, I'd like to ask about what we saw in Flourish and Blott's about Harry. Is it true some Dark Wizard tried to kill him when he was a baby?"

Auntie Barker's eyes widened again, and she sounded slightly shocked as she responded directly to Harry. "Harry, sweetie, you didn't know about it?"

Harry shook his head, and Millie took the opportunity to start telling her Aunt all about what had happened that morning at Diagon Alley, as well as the suspicions she had earlier had about her parents' regard of Harry.

Auntie Barker listened attentively the whole time, and when Millie had finished, she sighed and sat down in one of the couches. "Well, dearies, I guess I should start at the beginning."

Harry and Millie leaned forward, and Harry spoke up for the first time. "The beginning? Is that what happened to my parents and me?"

"Well…yes. Though not directly." Auntie Barker sighed. "There was a very dark wizard who lived ten years ago. It was not a pleasant time. I remember every day's paper had news of more of the finest witches and wizards dead, murdered by You-Know-Who. There were the Bones, the Catlans, the McKinnons, the Gaines…"

Millie interrupted. "Who?"

Auntie Barker shook her head slightly to clear her thoughts. "What, dearie?"

"You said You-Know-Who killed them. I don't know who."

"Oh, of course dearie. You-Know-Who is the, well I suppose you'd call it the accepted name for the Dark Wizard who terrified the wizarding world. It is bad luck to say his real name, so we say You-Know-Who instead."

"But what is the name?" Harry asked, desperate to learn more about how his parents had died.

"Oh I shouldn't…oh well. Don't ask me to say it again dearies, but I daresay a little bad luck won't hurt too much. His name was…Voldemort." Despite herself, Auntie Barker shivered with the name.

Harry and Millie looked at each other and shrugged. It didn't seem such a bad thing to say the name. It just was like any other name, maybe a bit strange but that was it.

Auntie Barker continued with her story, "You-Know-Who killed dozens of witches and wizards, anyone who stood against him. Only a few of the bravest stood against him. I was never one of those," she shivered again, "and I'm glad of it. Most of those who tried to fight him are dead now. Among those were your parents."

Harry listened even more carefully. This was the first real stories that he'd gotten about his parents, and he wanted to hear all about them.

"James and Lily Potter. They were a few years below me in school, but they were very noticeable indeed. Your father was Gryffindor's star Chaser for years, and he and his friends were always in the middle of everything. And your mother…she was one of the brightest witches to ever go to Hogwarts, even though she was Muggleborn. Well, dearie, I didn't know them well, but I knew they were some of the bravest of the brave. It's said that they faced You-Know-Who himself more than once, and survived." Auntie Barker said that last with an incredible tone of awe.

Millie also listened carefully. She couldn't believe that Harry was famous, and that his parents were heroes who had died fighting a Dark Wizard. This was far more than any daydream she had ever had could have given her. As she listened, she had a nagging feeling that she wanted to ask her Aunt something, but that feeling disappeared, and she eagerly awaited the rest of the story.

Auntie Barker went on, that awe still in her voice. "You-Know-Who went after your parents in person. There were very few he did that for. When You-Know-Who decided a wizard would die by his own wand, they died. And when he arrived at your house on one Halloween night eight years ago, he succeeded in his goal. He killed your parents, though they certainly put up a good fight. Their house was ruins when he was finished, and the battle could be heard by Muggles several miles away. And then You-Know-Who decided to kill you…"

Millie gasped despite herself. Even though she knew Harry was alive, was sitting right next to her, she still heard the horror that her Auntie obviously still felt about You-Know-Who.

"And that's why you're famous, Harry. You-Know-Who had never failed to kill anyone. It was said that the only wizard he ever feared was Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwarts. But you survived, dearie. You, a one year old baby survived."

Harry sat back, stunned. He had read some of that in the books he and Millie had found, but hearing the entire story in full was a shocking feeling.

"And not only did you survive…" Auntie Barker said solemnly, staring at Harry, "You-Know-Who was never seen again. No one truly knows what happened then, but it was the end of an era of horror."

"So what happened to You-Know-Who?" Millie asked, eagerly.

"No one truly knows. You have to understand, dearie, that people believe what they want to believe. Most want to believe he's dead. I dare say, though, that You-Know-Who was no ordinary man, if he was ever a man at all."

"So he's still alive?" Harry asked, paling.

"Perhaps, Harry. I do not know."

Millie, more practical than Harry, asked the other question that had been bothering her. "So what about my parents? Why are they using Harry's fame? And to do what?"

Auntie Barker straightened up in her chair, and her expression lightened noticeably. "Well, dearie, the truth is that Harry's famous. Anyone you meet will be using him to some extent." She looked at Millie sternly. "Even you, Millie."

Millie protested, "I would never use Harry like that, Auntie!"

"Perhaps not purposely, dearie, but you use him all the same. When you go to a store with him, or walk the streets of Diagon Alley with him, people will notice you. You'll get preferential treatment just for being known as the friend of the Boy-Who-Lived. The only difference in this between you and your parents is that they know exactly what they're doing with it."

Harry looked at Millie for a second, and then back to her Auntie. "So people will help my friends just because I'm me? That doesn't sound too bad, even if it's weird that people will do that for me."

Auntie Barker responded, "Well, Harry dear, that's true to some extent. And with Millie, and even her parents, it's basically innocent like that. Well, my brother and his wife are using you purposely to help you careers, but that's basically it. But there are some who would use you to reach ends which you would not want."

Millie asked, "What does that mean, Auntie?"

"Some people would use Harry to support policies in the Ministry, ones which Harry may or may not support. Your parents are merely using Harry to make themselves look better, but if Minister Fudge, for example, was seen with Harry, the Daily Prophet would see it as Harry supporting whatever law that Fudge is trying to pass at the moment."

Harry looked somewhat angry. "So anyone who is pretending to help me is actually just trying to use me for their own ends?"

Auntie Barker asked kindly, "Do you think that Millie is doing so, Harry?"

Harry looked sheepish and smiled at Millie. "No, I'm sorry, Millie. I'm just a bit overwhelmed, I guess."

Auntie Barker chuckled a bit at their interaction. "Don't worry, Harry dear. Not everyone is trying to use you. There really are four ways people will react to you. The first is the one you really have to worry about, and that is the people who will hate you for who you are. That's mainly former Death Eaters and their ilk."

"Death Eaters?" Millie asked.

"The former supporters of You-Know-Who. And there are those who would have been Death Eaters, but were too afraid too, of course. The second way a wizard may react to you, Harry, is too be blinded by your fame. This could mean either thinking you're incredible because of what you did, or hating you because they think that you get special treatment. In general, those types will either stay away from you or harass you. Most of the people in the wizarding world will be like this, and most of those will do no more than gape at you."

She continued, "The third type of person in their reactions to you would be those who want to use you. That can range from people like my brother and sister-in-law, who just use you to help their career, to political types who want to use you to push through certain laws. They'll try to befriend you, and the better ones will give you help in response to your own."

"So everyone's going to react badly to me in some way, then?" Asked Harry, bitterly.

"Well, no, there's the fourth group, the rarest of people. They're the ones that won't really care about your fame. There aren't many of them, and you're fortunate to have found my dear Millie," she smiled warmly at her niece. "If you find ones such as those, hold onto them because they are very precious."

Harry grinned at his best friend. "You don't have to worry about that one."

Millie grinned back, but the smile faded after a moment and she looked at Auntie Barker suspiciously. "So, which category are you in, Auntie Barker."

"Good, dearie. You should think that question with anyone you meet. And…well, I suppose I'm using Harry too." She smiled kindly at the glare Millie shot her. "But not in the way you think, dearie. I'm using Harry for you. I was a Slytherin, you know, when I was at Hogwarts. They're known for many things, but the real qualities that make a Snake like me are ambitiousness and cunning." She smiled again, "I was never much for ambition, I dare say, as I left school in sixth year. But, I do have no small amount of cunning, I'd like to think."

Millie was still glaring, "So what? Why are you using Harry?"

Auntie Barker continued smiling, but turned to Harry personally. "I love my brother, and his wife as well, but they do have the fault of being overambitious. I'm sure they don't mean to hurt you or anything, and they certainly love Millie, but they can't really help themselves. However, I think they may be more ambitious about their Millicent's future than their own. Anyway, I am much the same as them, at least as far as Millie is concerned, dearie. You are good friends, I can see, and anything that I do to help you and Millie, I will, as long as you promise to always be there for Mille yourself."

Millie still looked suspiciously at her Aunt, but Harry nodded. "Of course I'll help Millie. She's my best friend." Harry grinned at Millie, who turned to him and smiled back.

Auntie Barker smiled again. "Good to hear, Harry dear, though I never doubted it from all of the stories Millie has told me about you." Millie blushed a little when Harry looked at her, and he nearly laughed at the sight. Auntie Barker continued, "Well, dear, the only thing you have to do about this right now is think about what someone has to gain whenever they help you. For example, when my brother brought you two to Diagon Alley this morning, it meant that people saw him in the company of the Boy-Who-Lived. That helps his career, and may even get him a pay raise of some sort."

Millie was angry at the thought of her parents using her friend like that, but Harry was a bit more thoughtful about the affair. "Well, that's not so bad, is it?" He said slowly. "They _are_ helping me, after all, and they're not hurting me in that, either. Besides, helping them is helping you, Millie."

Auntie Barker smiled at him. "Very good, Harry. That is the thing you should ask yourself before ever doing something that may be thought of as giving your support to a person or organization. First, does it hurt you, and second, is the thing that the organization is gaining something that you would not like. If the answer to both is no, then there is no reason not to allow that person or organization to help you."

Millie wasn't so convinced. "But it's not right." She said. "Harry shouldn't have to care who he hangs out with or who he accepts help from just because he's famous."

Auntie Barker smiled at her niece again. "Millie dear, you have to understand. There is no right and wrong in the world, really. Oh," she said, "there is evil, such as You-Know-Who, and there is good, such as family and love. But there certainly is no guarantee of fairness, ever. If you want to be a Slytherin like your father and I, you have to understand that and use it."

Millie looked like she wanted to protest, but Harry cut her off. "C'mon Millie, it doesn't matter if it's right. It isn't right that Dudley picks on you just 'cuz you're my friend either, is it?"

"I don't care about that. But you're right, it's not right that Dudley picks on you."

Auntie Barker smiled again. "Ah, you understand." She frowned a bit, then. "It's not right that you realize that at such a young age of course. But it is good that you realize that fairness is not a guiding force in the world. When you go to Hogwarts, you'll see many people, especially Gryffindors, who feel that it is their personal duty to fix every wrong in the world. You should understand that the best you can do is to give yourself the best life possible, and if you get the chance make some small difference."

"And of course," she continued, "when you're given an advantage like Harry has, even if it is at such a terrible cost, you should use it. Dearies, you, unlike me, have the opportunity to help people, if you so choose. Of course, you should always remember that it is your choice, in the end. And whatever you do, no matter how you decide to live your life, always remember to be a Slytherin about it. It's cunning and ambition that really gets you places, not nobility, hard-work or intelligence."

After those words of warning, Auntie Barker settled down and offered Harry and Millie some food to eat for lunch, which Harry gladly accepted. They spent the rest of the day, nearly, talking about inconsequential things, and Harry was very happy to find a supporter in that way. When Harry finally returned to Privet Drive to face the wrath of his Aunt and Uncle, he was in a better mood than he'd been since the summer started, and didn't mind the punishments he received for skipping out on chores that day. He could only hope that he would see Millie more often the rest of the summer, and it would be the best of his life.

And on that day, Harry made a choice that would affect the future immensely. Perhaps in another reality, one where Harry had never met Millicent Bulstrode, he could have grown up believing in the black and white of evil and good, and felt that any form of manipulation was a horrible crime. But in this reality, Harry learned at an early age, that the only way to get places in life was to use people and be used by them. The consequences of this belief in the future rippled out throughout wizarding Britain, and perhaps the rest of the wizarding world, for the future.

But Harry had no knowledge of this. All he knew that day was that he had had a very fun day, in which he had learned about his parents, found out he was famous, and had fun with his best friend in Diagon Alley. What more could a seven year old boy ask for?

**Thanks for reading. **

**To knightwolf20x: I'm glad you liked the argument scene. It really wasn't planned. In fact, my plan for the chapter was completely overturned as I wrote it, and it just came out. I thought it might have been a little overdone, but I'm glad you disagree. As for the duo/trio question…well, I think that it'll just be Harry and Millie mainly. Hermione will still be a Gryffindor, of course, as will most of the main characters of canon. There will be a surprise Slytherin, but he (or she) won't be in a trio with Harry and Millie. However, I think that there might be a Gryffindor trio of Longbottom, Granger and Weasley. In addition, Harry, Millie and two other characters will be really close, though they probably won't be who you expect.**

**To Penseln: Thank you very much for your review. I really appreciate you taking the time to write some thoughts down. As for Tonks, I completely agree. She isn't my complete favorite character, but definitely in the top five.**

**Personally I like Ron, but I completely agree with you on the Slytherin thing. In fact, I think that Ron, and to a lesser extent the twins, will be distant from Harry for the first three years, particularly second, for that very fact. I think that of the Weasleys, Percy and Ginny will be the closest to Harry and Millie. In fact, I have an interesting and as far as I know fairly unique roll for both of them. For the Ron question as well, I think that it will change him not having Harry as a friend. He won't be as jealous, and perhaps, depending on how I have him relating to Hermione, he may be a better student as well. **

**Dumbledore is a big question, really. In this fic, I think I'll settle, at least for the beginning, with him being more grandfatherly. I like manipulative Dumbledore fics a lot, but I don't think I could do one justice. Besides, it seems that besides Rowling's first book, Dumbledore wasn't too manipulative, unless you think he's far more powerful, and possibly evil, than seems likely. Anyway, I have a fairly good explanation for some of the more manipulative parts of the story. I also have an interesting Dumbledore dynamic in my other, new fic, **_**These Grim Bones**_**, though it hasn't shown overly much yet. And yes, that was a shameless plug for it, by the way.**

**For Sirius, I agree with that thought. But that kind of brings up another question, and that is how would the Order interact with Harry? And, how would the Bulstrodes interact with the Order and vice-versa, considering it's likely they'd have to go under protection as well?**

**As for Snape, I like his character a lot, and I plan to use Harry's resemblance to both his father and his mother to torture the Potions Master a lot. It seems that in canon, Snape had the opportunity to judge Harry, and it was easier to see James in him than it was to see Lily. In my fic, I think he'll see both of them to some extreme at different times, and that will affect his reactions with Harry greatly. I plan to use Snape's Legilimency for this even more for that as well. It is interesting that as far as Snape is concerned, Harry has formed his own Marauders with himself as Prongs, Ron as Padfoot, Hermione as Moony, and Neville as Wormtail to a certain extent.**

**To RRW and Goldenfightergirl: The royalties question probably won't come up for now, but I suppose in the future that Harry and Millie could try to get money for it. In fact, there might be some interesting interactions with the Goblins from that.**

**To Neutral-Chaotic: I agree, and that's why I like Millie. I have read, though I'm not sure where, that Millicent Bulstrode's name itself actually suggests independence to some extent, and that's interesting to me. As for her being a loner, it's not just her instincts but also that her body type, which is fairly large in my fic now, and actually fat by the time of canon, leads people to dislike her on sight. I'm pretty sure her father's not a Death Eater, if only because she's a half-blood. I do think there was a Bulstrode on the Black family tree, though. Luna…well I like her a lot, but I'm not sure how well I could do her justice. She may make appearances, though. As for Dark Harry, I don't really know. I think to some extent, yes, but not to the extent that he could use the Unforgiveables, or even really nasty Dark curses. Darker than canon, though…for sure. **

**As for Sirius seeing Regulus in Harry, that's brilliant. I hadn't thought of that at all, and it's a really good idea. The problem is that because of Sirius' imbalance from Azkaban, he may end up overdoing it by just maligning Slytherin a lot, or by trying too hard to make Harry prank people like his father. Interesting dynamic, to be sure. The Patronus…Well, I personally think that Harry's should have been the doe for Lily, not the stag for James, so I don't know. Could be interesting seeing Harry and Snape have the same Patronus. Or Harry might have a Patronus that represents Millie, just because she is his first friend, and is closer than any of Harry's friends from canon.**

**I'm glad you like the story, and I thank you a lot for reviewing. I dunno about my writing though, it seems stilted to me sometimes. Anyway, thanks.**

**Finally, to Prie: I realize that my author notes are long, and I apologize. However, I think writing stuff down like this helps me crystallize my thoughts and help get new ideas at the same time, and as such is very useful. Besides, I write my author notes in fifteen minutes flat, while I spend probably thirty times as long on my story itself.**


	8. Quidditch and Forgiveness

**Well, it's been a long time since I updated this fic. Much has changed in the nearly three years since the last time I posted an update. I certainly can't promise that I will update on any kind of consistent schedule, but I do promise to continue updating. Hopefully it won't be three years until the next update.**

**I apologize for not updating faster, and I hope that all my readers from before will still enjoy reading this fic. I am also about halfway through the next chapter of **_**These Grim Bones**_**, and will hopefully post an update in the next week or so.**

**Unfortunately, the words don't really flow off my keyboard the way they did when I was last working on this fic. Parts of this chapter did, but parts didn't, and I can only hope the next chapter will be easier.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of this.**

For Harry and Millie, the next year passed much like the previous one. Harry and Millie went to school every day, got in fights with Dudley and his gang almost every day, and were sent to work with Ms. Capon much of the time. Millie had continued to improve her ability at school, although by her own admission she was not as smart as Harry by a long shot. Meanwhile, Harry worked hard to keep his grades just below Dudley's to ensure that he would not be punished by his Aunt and Uncle.

Millie and her parents had a very strained relationship for much of the year. Ever since the revelation that Harry was famous and that her parents were using him in a way, Millie had generally stayed away from them. The Bulstrodes had not known how to handle their daughter's newfound alienation, and spent that time trying to make it up to both Harry and Millie by giving the pair books and gifts. This hadn't really impressed Millie at all, but to Harry the gift of a WWN set, among other gifts, was precious beyond measure.

Millie, when Harry received the Wizarding Wireless Network receiver, had been slightly disappointed at the look of glee on his face. She had been planning on getting one for him for his Christmas gift, but her parents had preempted her. It was obvious that he really enjoyed it and she wished that it had been her giving the wireless set, not her parents.

And Millie had felt a certain guilty and vengeful pleasure when she had shown Harry the _Daily Prophet _article detailing the sighting of the "Boy-Who-Lived" in Diagon Alley. Her parents were mentioned on the front page, along with Harry himself. Millie then told Harry how since then her mother had been given a pay raise and her father had replaced the Beater Coach for the Cannons, moving up from his previous position as Assistant. Admittedly, everyone knew that the old coach was going to have to go anyway, after the Beater's poor performance against Falmouth the previous year, but without the Harry connection, Mr. Bulstrode probably wouldn't have gotten the job. Millie was sure that Harry would be just as appalled as she was that her parents would be profiting from her knowing Harry.

Harry, however, had not reacted as badly as Millie had assumed he would, and with nowhere near the disappointment with which she had. He just shrugged and said, "That's what your Auntie said would happen."

In a way that was somewhat disappointing, learning that he had taken what she saw as her parent's betrayal in such a calmer manner than she had. Some part of Millie felt jealous of the fact that her parents could give him gifts when she couldn't, especially now that she had found out that her parents had, whether purposely or not, withheld the fact that he was famous from the both of them.

Still, Millie felt somewhat relieved as well, as if her best friend's at least limited acceptance of her parent's manipulating meant that she was free to continue loving them. She wasn't ready to forgive them just yet, but she did feel enough better to browse the gifts that her parents had got for them with Harry.

The books that both of them had received were quite interesting as well, particularly the Quidditch books that Millie's father had brought. Harry and Millie spent many fruitful hours browsing through the books of plays and talking about them. They decided that they would make the Slytherin Quidditch team as second years, and play Beater together.

Millie could see Harry's disappointment that they wouldn't play in their first year, but she had explained, "I'd rather wait. If we try out first year, we won't have brooms, and we'll be too small. So we'd just make the captain think we're not good enough."

Harry sighed. "I suppose so. Is that what your father said?"

"Yeah," she replied. "He said that he had lots of people try out for Beater slots on the Cannons when they weren't good enough, and that made him less likely to accept them if they tried out again later, even if they get better."

Harry nodded, and the pair went back to looking at the book Millie's father had bought them, _A Wasp's Journey,_ by Ludo Bagman. They didn't really read the book, as much as admire the pictures of the Wimborne Wasps in the book, particularly the fantastic Beating moves of Bagman.

That summer, a few days before Harry's ninth birthday, Millie and he were able to finally see a Quidditch game in person. Harry had been listening to games on his new WWN set for most of the year, but he had never seen one and Millie was determined that he should. Mr. Bulstrode agreed readily, although, as Millie said, he probably did so as much so that he could be seen with Harry as to please the pair of them. Again, Harry just shrugged and said with a grin, "either way, we're still going to a Quidditch game!"

The game in question, Chudley versus Pride of Portree, was a regular season game for the British and Irish Quidditch League. Millie didn't have much hope that the Cannons would win, but it would still be an entertaining game. This was especially true as George Grey, Portree's star Beater, had been suspended for three games for taking a cheap shot at Falmouth's Keeper after the Snitch had been caught two games before.

Mille was doubly satisfied by this result. "It takes Portree's best Beater out, _and_ it hurts the stinkin' Falcons. We won't win still, of course, but my father's Beaters will be able to do some damage."

"Why won't we be able to win?" asked Harry.

"Cuz Portree's Chasers are the best in the league. Two of them played for England last year at the World Cup."

Despite that negative premonition, Millie was still excited to be attending, and Harry was even more so, if that was possible. On the day that the game was scheduled, Harry sped through all of his chores before lunch and ran to Millie's house to get ready for the game.

When he reached her doorstep, he found Millie sitting outside, waiting for him. "Hey Harry!" she shouted, waving at him. "Ready for the game?"

Harry grinned at his friend so hard that he felt his face would burst. "Yeah!" he exclaimed, following Millie inside.

Once in doors, Millie led Harry upstairs to her room. The room was about the size of Dudley's room—maybe ten times the size of Harry's cupboard—and was filled with magic and wizarding items. An old-fashioned four-poster bed took up the center of the room, its silver curtains pulled back to reveal a green blanket on the bed. The walls had several Chudley Cannon' posters in their garish orange coloring, and a few portraits and moving paintings sat on the walls as well.

Millie let loose her trademark grin, the one that always made Harry want to smile too. "C'mon!" she said, dragging him to her closet. "We've got to get ready!"

"What?" Harry asked, bewildered. He looked inside the closet that Millie had just opened, and saw a remarkable array of orange staring back at him.

Millie grabbed an orange cap and a t-shirt off the top of the pile and thrust it at Harry, taking a jersey and an orange head band for herself.

Looking at Harry, who was still gaping at the huge amount of Cannon's gear in her closet, Millie laughed. "My father always gets me free stuff from the Cannons. See, look at your shirt. It says Cannons Training Camp '84. That was the year he first started working at Chudley."

Harry blinked, then grinned and put on the t-shirt. "Why don't you ever wear this stuff to school?"

"Cuz of my mother," Millie said with a hint of bitterness. "it's not proper for a young lady, she always says."

Her friend laughed at that. "Lady?" he said mockingly. "I thought you were a 'hooligan.'"

"I know!" Millie said. "But you're the 'trouble-maker,'" she responded, mimicking Mr. Reilly's nasally voice as she did so.

"Well you're a reprobate's reprobate. You know what a reprobate is, Miss Bulstrode?"

Millie burst into laughter at Harry's impersonation. "Oh that was hilarious! And Dursley's face at that! 'What's a…uh…repriate, sir?'" she mimicked, chuckling.

The pair of friends would have continued in that vein for quite a while longer, as they often had, for Dudley Dursley and Mr. Reilly were popular targets of mimicry for the pair. However, Millie's father called from downstairs at that point. "Millicent, Harry. Time to go."

Millie and Harry quickly ran downstairs, excited for the game. When they reached the living room where her father was waiting, he put a hand on each of their shoulders and they Apparated with an awful squeezing sensation.

When they appeared at their destination, Harry again felt dizzy and groaned, "I hate doing that." When Millie laughed at him, he glared at her. Suddenly, he stood up straight, staring in awe at the edifice ahead of them. It was a monstrous looking stadium, at least to Harry who had never seen such a thing before in his life.

He could only see part of the stadium through a gap in the trees, but what he could see was incredible, with its orange posters hanging over the sides and the distant sound of chattering wizards that was audible even so far away.

"Hurry up, you two," beckoned Mr. Bulstrode. "I've got to start warm-ups for the Beaters."

As they trailed behind the older man, Harry asked Millie, "So the game won't start for a while?"

Millie responded, "No, we'll have to wait for a while. Father has to get to the stadium a couple of hours early every game. But it won't be so bad. We can watch all of the Cannons fanatics before the game."

Harry inwardly laughed at that, thinking that a person would have to be pretty fanatic to beat Millie's support for the Cannons. His thoughts abruptly cut off, however, at the sight of a wizard dressed all in orange, even down to an orange top hat with a model cannon on top that regularly emitted bursts of smoke. That, however, was not what drew Harry's gaze to the wizard, but rather the singular fact that he was riding past Harry, Millie and Mr. Bulstrode on what looked like a giant, orange chicken.

Seeing Harry gape at the wizard, Millie said, "See what I mean? I think the bird is supposed to be a falcon."

"But the Falcons are our rivals, right?"

"Exactly, that's why he's sitting on it," Millie replied with a grin.

Harry could only nod in reply, as he watched dozens more fans in odd costumes of all stripes go by, all chattering and waving to each other. Mr. Bulstrode quickly led them to the base of the stadium and told them to go to their seats on the fifth level, as he strode towards the team rooms.

Harry was a little wary of venturing into the crowd, but Millie took him by the hand and dragged him through the crowd, quickly making their way through the stadium. "I thought you've only been to a few games before?" Harry asked. "How come you know your way so well?"

Millie laughed at him, and pointed above them. Harry looked and saw an easily visible sign not too far away that said "Fifth Level, Seats 50-60" in flashing orange lettering. Harry said "Oh" in a slightly embarrassed tone. "Which seat are we then?"

"We're Seats 55 and 56. We're pretty lucky, we're right near the Chudley goalposts. There'll be sure to be a lot of action right there."

"Why?" Harry asked.

Millie colored slightly. "Because the Quaffles will probably be on our side of the pitch the whole game. I said Portree had the best Chasers in the league, remember."

"Oh." Harry followed Millie up the stairs to their box and found their seats. They were good seats, right at the edge of the box. And the box itself was not only a little off-set from the Chudley goalposts, so they were close to the posts but could still see all of them, but it was also at the same height.

The box was empty when they arrived, so Harry and Millie took their time to explore the box and also to look around at other seats nearby. Just as Millie said, watching the Chudley fanatics was almost as fun as watching the game itself.

Harry gasped when he saw three pale-white, transparent wizards float past their box, wearing what would have been Cannons jerseys and apparel if it had been orange instead of the same pale-white as the rest of their bodies. "What…is that?" he exclaimed.

Millie peered up at them, and excitedly said, "Oh, those are the Cannons Ghosts. That's Gabe, Mike and Rafe. I'd heard of them, but I've never seen them before."

"Why do the Cannons have ghosts?" Harry asked.

"Well, the story goes that the three of them tried to sacrifice themselves in some ritual in the 50s to let the Cannons win. They had some hare-brained theory that there was a curse on the Cannons and if they sacrificed themselves, then the Cannons would be break the curse and be able to win again. It obviously didn't work."

"Why would they…?"

"I dunno. They were real fanatics."

Harry and Millie continued to discuss the Cannons and laugh at all of the odd costumes that were going by. After a while, they heard a commotion right outside the door.

"C'mon Dad, c'mon," came a boy's voice from outside. "We need to find our seats before the game starts."

"Don't worry, Ron," responded a man's voice. "The seats are right here, and the game won't start for another hour and a half, anyway."

"Well, let's sit down then," came a girl's voice, loud with excitement. "If the seats are right here."

Harry and Millie turned in their seats to look as the door opened, admitting three people. One, a tall, thin, balding wizard, held the door for the other two, who looked about Harry and Millie's age. As the pair of children came through the door, Millie recognized them as part of the family that they had seen in Diagon Alley the summer before.

"Oh, hullo," said the older wizard. "I didn't expect anyone else here so early."

Millie responded, "My father's a coach for the Cannons, so we had to get here really early so he could start warm-ups."

One of the two children that had came in, a gangly boy with bright red hair, burst in at that news. "Your dad's a Cannons coach? That's awesome. Have you got to…y'know…meet the players and all that?"

"Nah," Millie said, "my father wouldn't even think of it. Although…" She glanced at Harry quickly, and then shook her head. "…Never mind."

Harry realized what she was thinking. Maybe Mr. Bulstrode would let them meet the players because Harry was there. Harry decided he would ask Millie's father after the game, as a nice surprise for Millie. Millie obviously guessed what he was thinking, because she shook her head at him vigorously. Harry in turn shrugged, and thought to himself that he definitely would do it, despite Millie's protests.

They turned back to the others, and saw all three of the newcomers looking at them strangely. The older wizard said, "Well, I'm going to go talk to some colleagues from the Ministry. Why don't you four talk a little. This is Ron, and this is Ginny."

Millie responded, and introduced herself and Harry, making sure not to mention his last name. The older wizard, who asked that they call him Mr. Weasley, turned and made his way out of the compartment, leaving the four children alone.

"I think we saw you and your family at Diagon Alley last summer," said Millie. She pointed then to the small red-haired girl who was standing next to her brother. "You were running through Gladrags, right?"

The girl blushed bright red. "Yeah. Fred and George turned my hair green, so I wanted to get back at them."

Millie laughed, but Harry, who knew how it felt to be bullied by a relative, said, "I hope you got them good."

The boy – Ron – laughed as well, "She managed to get Percy's wand back from them and made big bats made out of bogies come flying out of their nose."

Harry and Millie both scrunched their faces at the thought. "That sounds kind of disgusting," Harry noted.

"Yeah, it is," Ginny responded, "my brother Bill told me how to do it. He just graduated from Hogwarts last year, and he's going to work for Gringotts."

"That's wicked," Millie exclaimed. "What's he going to do? I heard the goblins only hire humans if they're the best."

"He's brilliant," said Ron. "He was Head Boy last year, and he got straight Os on everything but potions. Mum doesn't want him working for the goblins, though, says he'll get hurt."

"When will you two be going to Hogwarts, then?" Harry asked. "I wonder if we'll be in the same year."

"I'm eight," Ginny replied. "I won't get my letter for three more years. Ron will get his in two, though."

"Same with us," Millie exclaimed. "We'll be in the same year as you, Ron!"

Ginny deflated at that. "Oh, I thought you meant same as me. The only one I know who' s going to be in my year is this girl from my town, Luna. She's nice but a little off. I feel like everyone is going to know everyone except for me."

"Don't worry about that," Harry said. "The only one I know is Millie here, and now Ron, I guess."

"Well, my mother also forced me to meet a few others like Zabini and Parkinson," Millie said distastefully. "But they're boring and mean and I don't like them."

"Who are they?" Harry asked, curiously. He didn't think she'd ever mentioned them before.

"They're purebloods," Millie explained. "My mother wanted me to meet some to ensure that I had 'good connections' or something like that. Of course she couldn't get me a playdate with anyone important like the Malfoys, but she had to settle with some lesser ones. But they all knew that I was a half-blood and thought it would be funny to tease me about it. After I broke Zabini's nose I wasn't invited back again."

Ron was watching this exchange with a hint of suspicion. "'Good connections?' Purebloods? 'Important like the Malfoys?' Are you trying to be a Slytherin or something? My brothers say Slytherin's full of nothing but a bunch of slimy gits."

Millie got red in the face at this, responding heatedly, "Well, I bet you'll be a Gryffindor, won't you? They're nothing but a bunch of prideful idiots who rush in to things without thinking."

"Oh, what, did your 'mother' tell you that?" Ron asked. "At least Gryffindors aren't cowards and dark wizards."

"Well, neither are Slytherins. We're just smart enough to think before we act, not jump off a cliff and then realize that you need a broomstick."

"Hah, Gryffindors aren't dumb! My da says half of the Aurors were in Gryffindor."

"Well, maybe half the Aurors were Gryffindor, but two thirds of the Ministry was in Slytherin."

"Yeah, and the Gryffindors are there to save them when some dark wizard like You-Know-Who attacks!"

"Oh, yeah? Well, you know what; you probably won't even be a Gryffindor, anyway. You look like a Hufflepuff to me."

"What?" Ron looked even angrier now, if that was possible. "Well, you probably won't even get into Hogwarts at all. You're probably a Squib."

Harry, hadn't been particularly bothered by the conversation up to this point. In fact, it was kind of funny, and unlike the teasing on the playground, he didn't feel like Ron was personally attacking Millie. But the Squib comment made him see red, and he stood up from his seat.

But Harry was too late, for Millie had already rushed at Ron and pushed him backwards. Ron snarled and also pushed back and the two of them ended up on the ground in front of the seats, rolling around and hitting each other.

Harry lunged towards them, unsure of whether he was going to try to break it up or start joining Millie in hitting Ron. But before he could, the door to the box opened, and Mr. Weasley stepped through again.

"Well, know, what is this?" He said. "Break it up, you two." He waved his wand and Ron and Millie were pulled apart, suddenly still now that an adult was in the box. "What was all this about, then?"

"Da, she said I'd be in Hufflepuff."

"Well, he called me a Squib."

"And then she hit me!"

Mr. Weasley looked all too familiar with conflicts like this, for he sighed and said, "Okay, you two. Ron, you're going to sit on this side of the box, next to me. Millie, right? Millie, I can't give you orders, since you're not my child, but could you sit on the opposite side? We're here to watch a Quidditch game, not get in a fight."

The two squabbling children sighed and did as Mr. Weasley said.

For the next hour, Ron and Millie sulked quietly on either side of the box, occasionally sending each other glares. Even as more witches and wizards came into the box, the two continued to sulk, although Mr. Weasley was drawn into a conversation with an older wizard the row behind them and Ginny and Harry talked a little as well. Of course, their conversation was a bit stilted by the fact that their brother and best friend respectively were on either side of them glaring across them.

Finally, the game started and Ron and Millie were drawn out of their sulk by the announcers calling the players. Millie exclaimed excitedly when she saw her dad behind the Cannons' bench, and even Ron was brought back into his earlier awe that her dad worked for the Cannons.

Several hours later, an exhausted pair of friends walked back to the Apparition point with Millie's dad. As Millie had predicted, the Cannons had lost to Portree, but it had been much closer than the announcers had been expecting, and the Cannons Beaters had performed really well. Without their star Beater, Portree hadn't been able to keep control of the Bludgers, and some fantastic teamwork between the Chudley Beaters and Chasers had caused Protree some troubles early in the game. Portree's Chasers had quickly recovered, since, as Millie had said, they were the best Chasers in the league.

Still, it had been a fun game, and the announcers had even specifically mentioned Mr. Bulstrode's promotion as one of the reasons that the Chudley Beaters were doing so well, making Millie smile in happiness for most of the game. Even Ron had been awestruck by that, and when he'd been forced to apologize by Mr. Weasley after the game, Millie had felt generous enough to apologize as well.

When they returned home, and Harry had recovered from Mr. Bulstrode's Side-Along Apparition, Harry and Millie had gone to their park and discussed the day in depth. Much of that time was spent talking about the plays in the game itself, of course, and Millie spent almost ten minutes marveling about the fact that her dad had been mentioned by name in the WWN broadcast of the game, but they also discussed their encounter with the Weasleys.

"I think they're a Group 4," Harry said, referring to the classification system Millie's Aunt had talked to them about the previous summer. Since that time, they'd made it a habit of deciding where in that system everyone they met would fall.

"I dunno, they didn't even realize who you were, so how could you tell?"

"You're just still angry at Ron," Harry laughed. "Honestly, didn't you say last summer that you thought that we could trust them?"

"Well, yeah, I guess." Millie laughed then. "Well, I guess that makes sense, actually. They're Gryffindors – they're not smart enough to try to use you."

"Well, there is that," Harry grinned. "I can't believe you called him a Hufflepuff."

"It's pretty obvious he won't be a Ravenclaw," Millie laughed.

"What about Slytherin, then?" Harry asked. After a second, Harry and Millie both burst out into laughter at the thought.

"I have to go do some chores now," Harry said suddenly, looking at his watch. "I'll see you tomorrow at your house."

"Okay, sounds good. We can see if we recognize any of the Beater tactics from the game in dad's books."

And so the summer went, with Harry going to his friend's house every day to 'clean,' which really meant spending an hour or so cleaning Millie's room and sweeping dust out of the house, and then spending the next few hours hanging out in her room or in the library of her house. Then in the afternoon he would return home to do chores at the Dursley's, and then spend a few hours in the playground before returning to the Dursley's house to sleep.

It was interesting how over the past several years, Harry had stopped thinking about the Dursley's as home. He had always hated their house, and felt that school, even with Dudley chasing him, was a welcome break. But, since he'd met Millie, and especially over the course of the last year and this summer, he'd started feeling like the Bulstrode's house was more home than anything. He'd even had a few sleepovers, on those few occasions that the Dursleys had allowed it.

Over the course of the summer, and into the next year, Millie had slowly begun to forgive her parents. Harry had already done so, but Millie was slower to forgive, upset as she was about their use of Harry, her first friend. Surprisingly, their final reconciliation was not caused by her dad, but rather by her mother, who had always been more distant.

By the Christmas that Harry and Millie were nine, two years since they had first met, the Dursleys had mostly begun to accept Harry's friendship with the Bulstrodes. They had even let him spend most of winter break at the Bulstrode's house, so for the first time that Harry could remember, he had a real Christmas. When he had thanked Millie's parents and told them that, both parents had gotten an odd look on their face, one that Harry couldn't really place.

Then, Mrs. Bulstrode had done something very surprising, something that neither Harry nor Millie could ever have imagined her doing. She bent down and gave Harry a hug. It was an awkward hug, not like the ones Millie gave him, which were full of warmth, but it was still a hug, and it made Harry nearly break down.

The moment quickly passed, though, and Harry and Millie began opening their presents. In the Bulstrode family, it was customary for Millie only to receive three gifts – one from her mother, one from her father, and one from both of them together. This year, Harry received the same.

When Harry saw the presents for him under the Christmas tree, he hunched up inside himself again. It was almost like the Bulstrodes were treating him as family. He began thinking – what would it be like to have a real family? Not his friend's family, but his own family. Since learning about the truth of his family's murder, Harry had researched it a lot, and seen enough pictures of his mum and dad that he could imagine them, sitting beside him while he opened some presents.

Millie's hand on his shoulder brought him out of it, and he gave the three Bulstrodes a watery smile. He moved towards the tree and opened the first present – the one from both the Bulstrode parents together. The present was small – it was a picture of Harry and Millie, both dressed up in their Chudley Cannons finery, arms around each other as they smiled at the camera – but it was the best present that Harry had ever gotten.

"Thank you," he said, eyes still watery. "This is the best present I've ever gotten."

Millie's present turned out to be a similar picture, this one of the pair in the playground, lying next to each other as they read one of the books they had smuggle out of the house.

"You knew we were taking books?" Millie asked, half smiling and half worried that they'd get in trouble for it.

"Yes," responded Mrs. Bulstrode. "Carrying books out of the house in your backpack – it wasn't hard at all to spot. You two will need to be more clever than that if you expect to succeed in Slytherin house."

Millie was so happy that she didn't even respond to her mother's rebuke. "Thank you, thank you," she said, smiling so wide that she thought her face would split.

The presents from Millie's dad for both of them were Quidditch books, as expected. These weren't just any Quidditch books, though, these were _The Beater Coach's Manual_ and _Beater Training for Rookies_, books for real Quidditch professionals, not just books for fans.

"Maybe sometime later this year we can go to the pitch and show you a little about how to Beat," Mr. Bulstrode said. "I was going to get you two Beater bats and a Bludger, but your mother convinced me that it would be a bad idea."

Unsurprisingly – she was a Ravenclaw, after all – Mrs. Bulstrode's presents were also books, books on Transfiguration, of course. What was surprising, however, was the subject of the book that she gave Harry. _Transfiguration in Broom Construction_ looked like one of the dry and boring books that she normally gave Millie and somehow expected her to understand and enjoy. This one, however, this one was about something that they were actually interested in.

The book Mrs. Bulstrode gave to Millie, _Uses of Transfiguration for Ward Design, _wasn't quite as interesting, but it was still better than _The Principle of Similarity and Conflux in Transfiguration_ which Millie had gotten the previous Christms.

Mrs. Bulstrode had a slight smile, just the corners of her mouth turned upwards, as she acknowledged the children's excited thanks. "I think that these books will perhaps make you more interested in the fine art of Transfiguration."

Several days later, when Harry and Millie went up to her with a list of questions that they wanted explained from the books, Mrs. Bulstrode actually did smile, and when she spent nearly two hours walking them through a difficult section, then Millie finally forgave her mother. She even gave her mother a hug, although Harry could tell Mrs. Bulstrode really didn't know what to do in that situation.

When school started again after the winter break, Harry and Millie received another surprise when they went into the kitchens on the third day of school for getting in another fight. Mrs. Capon looked up and actually smiled at them.

Harry and Millie were in shock from that, so when Miss Capon handed each of them a box wrapped in gift wrapping, they didn't know what to do. This couldn't be the Miss Capon who never smiled and who hated children in her kitchen, could it?

When they saw that Miss Capon had gotten them both an apron that matched hers, they had to laugh.

"Well, I figure that you two are in the kitchen so often that you might as well be working in here for me," she said, looking embarrassed.

When Millie gave the kitchen lady a hug, and Harry followed her lead, Miss Capon looked even more embarrassed, although she did lean forward and put her arms around both of them as well, even more awkwardly than Mrs. Bulstrode.

After a few seconds, she shook herself and scolded them, "Get back to work, you two. Those pots won't scrub themselves, and we need them ready to make lunch." But Harry and Millie could tell that her heart wasn't really in it, and they smiled as they went to the pots. By now it was a comfortable ritual, and barely even a punishment anymore.

And so went their third year together in school, with more of the same. Dudley got bigger and meaner, as did his friends, and their near-daily fights escalated more and more. Dudley broke Harry's arm early in the spring, but Millie broke Dudley's nose in retaliation. Of course, that meant even more time in the cupboard with no food for Harry, but as he said, "It was totally worth it to see Dudley's face."

Harry and Millie continued to read books from the Bulstrode's library, but now with the permission of Millie's parents. Every now and then, they would approach Mrs. Bulstrode and ask what something in one of the books they were reading meant. Most of the books were still too advanced for them, but they were still able to pick up some things, and according to Mrs. Bulstrode, they probably had an understanding of Transfiguration that was in advance of most Third-Years at Hogwarts.

Late that spring, Mr. Bulstrode brought Harry and Millie to the Cannons pitch after practice to show them a little bit about how to Beat. One of the Beaters on the team, Harvey Rudd, had stayed after practice to ask his Coach something and ended up staying on the Pitch to help them as well. Of course, they didn't loose the Bludgers, but the pair spent almost two hours swinging Beater's bats around and having their grip corrected.

They even got to use the Bludger training machine in the Cannons' training room. It was just a Bludger that was enchanted to move forward until it was hit, and then bounce back again in a straight line, but it was pretty fun to use anyway. Of course, the pair couldn't really exert enough strength to do much to it, but Rudd congratulated them anyway, saying that not many nine year olds could even do as much as they could.

Thus Harry and Millie spent the year, eagerly anticipating the day in two years that they would receive their Hogwarts letters and be able to attend the Wizarding school. Harry's days were mostly filled with laughter and happiness as he played with his best friend, a far different fate than he could have had if things had been different.

During these days, a momentous event passed by entirely unnoticed by any of the participants. Had Albus Dumbledore known, he would have been horrified by the failure of his precautions, but he was sure that everything was going well. If the Bulstrodes realized, they would have been simultaneously excited beyond measure and horrified to the same extent. Harry and Millie did realize, in some sense, but did not understand the implications.

Harry no longer considered the house of his mother's blood his home. Now, he considered the Bulstrode's home, and this would have consequences far-reaching and unforeseeable.


	9. Consequences

**Wow, this chapter turned out a little darker than I expected. I needed to start moving the plot forward, and I planned for this…event… to happen, but it sort of ran away from me in a manner I wasn't quite expecting. I think it turned out well, though. This won't be a fic of fluff and lightness, although it also won't be full of angst and hatred either. There's a war on, don't you know?**

**I apologize for the time between the last chapter and this. I won't promise something I can't fulfill, however, so I can't promise that the next will come sooner. I think it should, and the next chapter is pretty fully fleshed out in my head, but… Real life comes first, unfortunately.**

**I also apologize for the cliffhanger at the end. It was just the right place to end the chapter.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of this.**

It was an annual tradition of theirs to go looking for Harry Potter on Halloween morning. The five wizards were never really Death Eaters, as such. Although they would never admit it out loud, they were barely footnotes on the pages of the Wizarding War, auxiliaries of the Death Eaters whose names the Dark Lord probably didn't even know.

Nonetheless, every year on Halloween since that day nine years previously when the Dark Lord had vanished, the five wizards got together and tried to find the "Boy-Who-Lived," and teach him a lesson for the gall to stand up to the Dark Lord.

By this point, none of them truly believed they would be able to find the boy – their tracking spells hadn't worked for the last nine years, after all. Instead, this was merely a convenient chance to get out from under the thumbs of their wives for a day or so and get some enjoyment in the Muggle world. Ordinarily, after casting the tracking spell on Halloween morning, the quintet would wander into the Muggle world, and enjoy themselves. It was just added fun that the Muggle fascination for costumes deterred any suspicion of the men in odd clothing until it was too late.

Only one of the wizards was a true Pureblood – a member of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. The other four had Muggle ancestry somewhere in their family tree – a Mudblood grandmother, a Muggle father, a Squib for a grandfather, a Mudblood mother. The exception, Harold Greene, was the illegitimate son of two Pureblooded parents. Neither parent acknowledged him, however, as the scandal for the Averys and Rowles would have been terrible had it been widely known that the youngest daughter of the Avery line had an affair with Thorfinn Rowle, since both were married, and not to each other. He still wore the shield of the Rowles' on his robes, however. Whether it was intended as a slight to the Rowle family, or a recognition of his blood, none of the other four knew.

Harold Greene (who had taken that last name from the servant family who had raised him) was the undisputed leader of the little group. Partly because of his Pureblood roots, but more because of his commanding presence and arrogance.

Thus, when the five wizards set up their spell in a Muggle graveyard in Uxbridge, directly west of London, it was Harold who supervised while the other four set it up. Strictly speaking, the rituals and elaborate set-up weren't necessary, and nor was the graveyard. It would have been just as effective to just cast a spell from one of their homes, without the need for any of the runes, skulls or chanting. But Harold Greene had a keen sense of the dramatic, and the tradition was somehow less without the extra pieces.

In any case, on Halloween morning, before the sun had even risen in the sky, the five wizards set up their spell in this small graveyard, complete with runes draw on the dirt, seven candles set equidistant around the center, and some bones which had been taken from one of the graves. While Harold began the actual spell, the other three drew their wands and began chanting.

Just as it had for the last eight years, a glowing hand appeared, one finger pointed outwards with the rest clenched tight. And, just as it had for the last eight years, the hand swung wildly around, not focusing on any one spot.

Harold sighed and turned away. "Well, it looks like…"

"Harold, look!" exclaimed Jak Halton, staring at the hand.

Harold spun back around, to see that the hand was no longer swinging in all directions. Now, it was pointing southwards, moving back and forth in an arc towards the south. It was vibrating tensely, straining against…something.

The five wizards watched, stunned. This had never happened before. It was the most reaction they had gotten out of the tracking spell in all the years they had done this. It still didn't seem to be able to directly point out the boy, but it gave them a direction, more than they had ever had.

Even as they watched, the hand shuddered again, seemingly pushing against something, and then, with a slight burst of light, stopped vibrating. It hung in the air, the finger outstretched pointing towards Harry Potter.

* * *

Harry and Millie, at that very moment, were both sitting in Millie's room at the Bulstrode's house, getting ready to go to school. Halloween fell on a Wednesday that year, and their school was having the students put on a Halloween parade, where all the children would show off their Halloween costumes to their parents.

During the summer, the Bulstrodes had cleared out one of the studies on the second floor for Harry to stay in when he stayed with them instead of the Dursleys. As Mrs. Bulstrode had said, the pair was old enough that it wasn't right or proper for Harry to sleep in Millie's room anymore. Harry had been so happy about having his own room that he had given Mrs. Bulstrode another hug. Although she still didn't really look like she knew how to react to that, it wasn't as if Harry himself had very much experience with hugs either.

Harry had begun to sleep in his new room at the Bulstrodes' most nights, instead of going home to the Dursleys. The Dursleys had protested at first, upset that Harry was no longer doing chores for them in the morning, but the prospect of having that 'freak' out of the house overcame any reluctance they had. When school had started up again that September, Harry had stopped returning to the Dursley's house at all, and they hadn't said a word about it.

At the moment, however, Harry wasn't really thinking about his old cupboard at the Dursleys, or his new room at the Bulstrodes. He was focused entirely on the decision of what costume to wear to the school parade. Millie's initial idea of being a witch and a wizard had been shot down immediately by the Bulstrodes, who had explained that it was cutting a little too close to breaking the International Statute of Secrecy. Harry, after Millie had explained what that meant, hadn't really agreed, but a no was a no, and there was no point in arguing further.

With their first idea no longer an option, Harry and Millie had put off the decision for a costume until the very morning of Halloween, since they were both sure that Millie's parents wouldn't buy them costumes, no matter how much they begged. They had discussed options, of course, but they hadn't made a decision, and now they had only around an hour until they had to go to school. Not wearing a costume wasn't an option either, since they both knew how Dudley would tease them when he found out that Millie's parents hadn't bought them costumes. No doubt he would be wearing some costume that cost several hundred pounds and had flashing lights and some sort of weapon.

They were stumped. They had to get a costume, there was no doubt of that. And the costume had to upstage Dudley, or else there was no point of it at all. But what? They had racked their brains for anything at all, looked in all of the books in the library, even gone to the school library to try to get ideas, but nothing seemed both good enough and feasible for them to make themselves.

"Could we ask your mother to Transfigure something for us?" Harry asked suddenly. "Then we wouldn't have to make it ourselves."

Millie jumped off the bed where she was sitting. "Harry, that's brilliant!" She ran to the door, and down to the first floor, where Mrs. Bulstrode was working in the library, the back of which had been turned into a study for her to work in since Harry's room now occupied the old study. Harry followed closely behind, laughing as Millie's shoulder bounced off the bannister and staggered her for a second. Millie had recently started growing, and she had become hilariously clumsy at times. She had always been a large girl, and she still was, so the combination of her broad shoulders and new-found height made it difficult for her to judge where she was going on occasion. Harry himself had some of the same problems, but he was not growing as fast as Millie, and had always been scrawnier than her, so he didn't have quite as much of a track record of knocking things over or bouncing off walls.

"Mother," Millie said as she burst into the library, Harry two steps behind her. "Could you Transfigure costumes for us for Halloween?" she asked loudly.

"Decorum, Millicent," Mrs. Bulstrode said calmly. "Remember, you must always keep your bearing. Now, what was it that you wanted?"

Millie took a deep breath, and visibly forced herself to calm down. "Mother, could you Transfigure costumes for Harry and I for our Halloween parade at school this afternoon? We can't think of what to wear that wouldn't require too much work."

Mrs. Bulstrode frowned. "I don't know if this would set a good precedent," she said. "Magic in the presence of Muggles, even if it's performed out of their sight, is edging close to breaking the Statute of Secrecy."

Millie groaned. "The Statute of Secrecy, mother? It's not breaking the Statute of Secrecy if it doesn't show anyone anything about magic. No one will even notice."

Mrs. Bulstrode looked at her daughter sternly. "Firstly, don't take that tone with me. You will treat me with respect, do you understand?" At Millie's reluctant nod, she continued. "Secondly, the point isn't that you think that the Muggles won't notice, the point is that every time you use magic around Muggles, even if you're sure they won't notice, the chances grow higher that you will slip up and they _will_ see something. For that matter, what happens if someone asks where you bought your costume or how you made it? What will you say?"

Millie shrugged, still reluctant to admit that her mother had a point. Harry, however, could see what Mrs. Bulstrode meant. Still, it _was_ Halloween. And they needed a costume.

"What would you suggest, then, Mrs. Bulstrode?" Harry asked. He had realized over the past few years, and particularly the last few months of living at the Bulstrodes', that Mrs. Bulstrode responded very well to formality, and liked to be asked for help. Of course, part of the problem with Millie was that she hated asking for help, at least help for things that she felt that she should be able to do herself. While the act of Transfiguration wasn't one of those, thinking of a costume certainly was, and Harry knew Millie would never admit that she didn't have an idea.

Mrs. Bulstrode smiled. "Well, Harry, although I said I wouldn't Transfigure clothes for you, that doesn't mean that I wouldn't be willing to help you in other ways. What kind of help do you two think that I _would_ be willing to give, if I won't Transfigure clothes for you because I don't want to potentially expose magic to Muggles."

Millie frowned, thinking. Harry had an idea himself, but he let his friend answer.

"Well, you won't Transfigure the costume," she said, musing. "Because that's showing Muggles magic. But what if you just used magic to cut it or sew it?"

"Very good, Millicent. Unlike Transfiguration, using magic to cut a costume does not make the costume magical or give it magical properties."

"So does that mean that you will help?" Millie asked, happily.

Harry chimed in "We actually had a few ideas for costumes that we couldn't do because it would be too much work. But if you're willing to help…"

Mrs. Bulstrode frowned slightly. "I'm certainly willing to help," she said. "But I don't want to make something that's so elaborate that it doesn't look like it was stitched by hand. I expect a relatively simple costume."

Millie grinned. "Don't worry, mother, these costumes aren't too complicated. I mean, we definitely couldn't do them ourselves, but they don't look magical at all."

Harry chimed in, "We did get the inspiration from some of the books in the library, though."

Mrs. Bulstrode still looked dubious, but she said, "Well, bring me a description or picture of what you want, and we'll see if I'll agree."

When the pair of children walked to school an hour or so later, Millie was grinning from ear to ear, although she was sure Harry couldn't see it. How could he, when her face was obscured by the absolutely brilliant costume that her mother had made for her? Oh, she couldn't wait to see Dudley's face when he saw their costumes. Harry, wearing a matching costume, was following behind, and she knew that he was just as happy as her.

"Calm down, Millie," Harry called, laughing. "You don't want to trip and mess up the costume."

"Don't worry, Harry," she responded. "I'm not going to trip over my own feet."

"Can you even see through that mask?" he asked.

Millie responded by turning around and whapping him on the shoulder, grinning at him through the mask of her costume.

He smiled. "Okay, you win, Millie. You can see."

Millie laughed. She suddenly felt the absolutely uncharacteristic urge to spin around in the middle of the street. She'd never felt this happy about her mother, not for as long as she could remember.

"What is that?" For once in her life, Millie was happy to hear the sullen, envious tones of Dudley Dursley. _Envious, _Dudley Dursley himself, the king of spoiled brats, was envious of them.

"It's a costume, obviously," Millie responded, turning to face Harry's cousin.

The large boy was, true to form, wearing a very expensive looking costume. Not content with merely an eye patch and sword, like most who dressed up as pirates would, he was also had a shiny gun at his hip with a flashing light on the end, and he was wearing a bewildering mix of pirate and spaceman clothing, with the breeches of a pirate, but what looked like a shirt from Star Trek.

"Well, obviously they're costumes," he sneered, "but what are you supposed to be?" He seemed to have mastered his surprise at their costumes, for he added, "I mean, obviously it's not a very good costume, especially compared to mine."

Harry spoke up now, responding, "Well, what is your costume, anyway, Dudley? I can't quite tell if you're supposed to be Anne Bonny or Captain Janeway."

Dudley turned purple, which contrasted quite interestingly with the red of his shirt. "I'm a space pirate!" he shouted. He took a step towards Harry, pulling back the hand holding the sword, but he stopped when Millie stepped in front of her friend. "What are you, though?" he asked again. "Are you two…wizards?" He asked, shuddering as he said the word.

"No," laughed Millie. "Do we look like wizards to you? No, we're ghouls."

"Ghouls?"

Harry nodded, "Yes, ghouls, also known as the undead." He raised his hands up and took a step forward, moaning exaggeratedly.

Dudley shuddered and took a step back. "Your costumes look terrible, you…freaks," he shouted, before turning to the school, obviously trying not to look like he was running away.

Millie turned to Harry and laughed. "That was fantastic," she said. "When you insulted Dudley – that was brilliant." She paused a second. "I remember Anne Bonny from history last year, she was that woman who was a pirate. Who's Captain Janeway, though?"

Harry grinned. "She's a character from a TV show," he said. "I only know because they were running reruns once when I was staying with Mrs. Figg. Anyway, she's also a woman, and she's from the same TV show that Dudley got his shirt."

Millie laughed. "Good one."

Still laughing over Dudley's comeuppance, the pair of friends made their way into the school.

"I'm glad that mother helped us make these," Millie said.

"Yeah," Harry agreed. "I'm just happy that she didn't think that they looked too much like…" _Dementors_, Millie knew Harry would have said, if he hadn't apparently realized that they were in a school full of Muggles.

"Yeah," she agreed. And the truth was, they didn't look allthat similar to Dementors. The idea _had_ come from glancing at a book of magical creatures and seeing the entry for a Dementor, but even Mrs. Bulstrode had agreed that their costume wasn't hinting at anything it shouldn't.

And it was pretty funny the way that the Muggles thought of ghouls. The Muggle idea of a ghoul looked something like a three-way cross between a House-Elf, a Dementor, and an Inferius. Of course, they hadn't told Mrs. Bulstrode that last comparison, for Millie was pretty sure that if they had, it would give away the fact that they had been looking at books that they really probably shouldn't.

In fact, some of the entries in those books had given both children nightmares, and after reading a little too much about the _Cruciatus_ curse, Harry and Millie had both agreed to stop sneaking into the downstairs library, and stick to Millie's own library for a while. Maybe not forever, but certainly for a while.

In any case, it was time for school, and Millie put away her thoughts of magic and dark curses for a while and decided to just enjoy the day and savor the look on Dudley's face.

Several hours later, Millie, who had been put on kitchen duty with Harry yet again, this time for 'insulting Mr. Dursley's quite impressive costume,' carried a bag of trash out of the kitchen to the dumpster behind the school. Miss Capon had gotten used to their help in the kitchens, and fairly often the pair of children would go and work in the kitchens even when they hadn't been given detention by one of the teachers. It wasn't that difficult, and it got them out of the reach of Dudley and his gang, which was always a plus.

In any case, over the past few years, Miss Capon had gotten more comfortable assigning them tasks beyond merely scrubbing pots. Sometimes they were even allowed to help with the cooking for lunch, although today they were merely helping with the after lunch clean-up, which was why Millie was carrying some garbage out to the dumpster.

As she walked, Millie was almost skipping, her spirits buoyed by the course of the day. Although Dudley and his crew continued to insult their costumes, several other students had come to Millie or Harry during the day and whispered things like "I like your costume" or "Your costumes are much better than Dudley's." Of course, they would never say it out loud, for fear of retribution from Dudley, but the encouragement still helped.

Millie almost tried to whistle, before she decided that it would be a little much. She didn't even know how to whistle. Harry had tried to teach her once, but –

She stopped suddenly, and stared in shock at the sight that greeted her eyes by the rear of the school. It couldn't be—could it?

Five men stood by the rear of the school, huddled in a circle and discussing something in low tones. That, however, wasn't what startled Millie. What startled Millie was the costumes that the men were wearing. Any Muggle who saw them would immediately decide that they were just wearing Halloween costumes. In fact, a Muggle would probably congratulate them for the obvious care and detail they put into their costumes, even if they were a little…odd.

But Millie knew better. Those were obviously not just costumes of wizards' robes, they _were_ wizards' robes. No Muggle would have dreamed up robes that were so…simple…for a costume. They weren't adorned with stars or purple, and the men wearing them weren't wearing pointy hats, which hadn't been in vogue in the Wizarding World since 1962, according to her mother, but which were always traditional for Muggle costumes of Wizards. This wasn't some costume, these were actual robes. If Millie had any doubt at all, it faded away when she noticed the symbol adorning the front of one of the men's robes.

That symbol, however, although it certainly got rid of any doubts about whether the men were wizards or not, left her with a sense of nervousness to replace it. What was a wizard wearing the shield of the Rowles, one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight Pureblood houses, doing loitering around a Muggle school? Nothing good, Millie thought. For once in her life, Millie was glad that her mother had forced her to memorize the shields of all of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, or she wouldn't have even known that much.

Millie squared her shoulders. She would find out what they were doing here, she had to. She had an awful feeling it might have to do with Harry, and she wouldn't let anything happen to him while she could prevent it. She hefted the garbage bag over her shoulder and started walking towards the dumpster, which was conveniently close to the five men.

She was sure that a group of wizards, presumably pureblood or at least halfblood, wouldn't deign to notice one lowly Muggle girl, particularly one who was carrying trash. While her mother had tried to teach her all about how to be a Pureblood, her Auntie Barker had managed to sneak in a few lessons on the problems with the Pureblood mentality. And one of those problems was the inability, willful or otherwise, to see those who were not also Pureblooded as really people. To a Pureblood's mind, a Muggle is not really a person, she is just a thing, a piece of scenery that moves, even less real than the moving portraits on the wall.

"…is just some Muggle place. Are you sure he's here?" she heard one man say as she drew closer.

Trying not to look like she was listening, she took her time in her walk to the dumpster.

"No, I'm not sure," retorted another sharply. "We haven't found him the past eight years, have we, now? But the spell led here, so we might actually find him this time."

"But why would he be in a Muggle neighborhood? Do you think Dumbledore would really hide him with Muggles?" The distaste in the man's voice was obvious as he spoke the word Muggle.

Millie tried to figure out what the wizards were talking about. Hiding someone, who would Dumbledore…?

When she realized who the wizards were talking about, she nearly dropped the trash bag she was hefting. Millie was certainly glad she didn't, because although the wizards hadn't noticed her yet, dropping a trash bag about five feet from them would probably draw their attention, and nothing she had seen or heard from them made them look like wizards who were supportive of their Muggle brethren.

The front part of her brain focused on that and on trying to remain calm as she walked past the wizards and to the dumpster. It was only the need to keep them from noticing her that kept her from dropping into a panic attack right there. _Harry, _they were talking about Harry! Through sheer force of will, she forced herself to drop the bag in the dumpster and keep walking, as if she hadn't heard anything.

Still, she was far from calm in truth. She didn't know what they wanted with Harry, but she doubted it was to shake his hand.

Another wizard spoke, confirming that thought. "Who knows what the old crackpot would do? Anyway, even if we don't find him, this would be a fine place to start out our Halloween fun, eh?"

Millie almost broke out running then, but she managed to hold herself in. She had just gotten past the wizards in the other direction, keeping them in her peripheral vision by going a slightly longer way back to the kitchen, when she saw one of them pull out a wand. She tensed, but relaxed when she realized that he wasn't pointing it at her, or at anyone around. In fact, the rear of the school was pretty much deserted at the moment. She wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

Instead, he chanted a few words, and waved his wand in a complicated gesture that she didn't recognize. Suddenly a shadowy hand appeared out of the wand. Millie saw it rotate around three times, before coming to a rest pointing at the door to the kitchen. Where Harry was.

Millie continued walking back to the kitchen, keeping the wizards in the corner of her eyes. If they were willing to do magic in the open in a Muggle school, that wasn't good news. Presumably, they intended to _Obliviate_—or worse—any Muggle who saw them. Hopefully, they wouldn't realize that she was still watching them.

* * *

Kenny Lennert was the first of the five wizards to see the Muggle girl. Well, that wasn't quite correct, as all of them had _seen _her, as she walked past them twice. It would be more correct to say that Kenny Lennert was the first of the five wizards to _notice_ the girl. And he didn't notice her at all until she was almost at the door to the Muggle building the hand was pointing at.

"Harold," he said, not too loudly. "That Muggle girl, she's watching us."

And indeed, as they looked more closely, they could tell that she was. She was hiding it well, but she was clearly glancing at them warily out of the corner of her eyes, although she didn't seem to have realized that they could tell.

Jak Healton turned pale. "She can see the spell!"

He pulled his wand out, and pointed it at the Muggle, even as Harold shouted "Jak, don't…"

The spell Jak sent at the Muggle impacted harmlessly on the wall of the building, even as the Muggle girl abandoned all pretense and started running. Kenny, quick off the mark, managed to send one stunning spell at her before she reached the door, but he underestimated her speed, and his spell hit the building behind her. Several more spells hit the door and wall as the others reacted, but by then the girl had already gone inside and gotten the door closed.

"Merlin!" Harold shouted. "Why in Merlin's name would you do such a stupid thing?"

"She saw us," responded Jak. "We had to do something." Kenny thought that it probably wasn't the best response to give the obviously incensed Harold.

"Yes, she saw us." He said, almost growling. "But all she saw was a floating hand. She didn't know what it was, and she obviously didn't know what we are. She's just a Muggle, she probably was just scared of something she didn't understand. But know she knows that we're dangerous, although she obviously doesn't know how much."

"Well then, what do we do?"

"Do? We do what we were planning on doing anyway," responded Harold. "We just go find Harry Potter, and if he's not there, we can have a little bit of fun. And we make sure that we find the girl and keep her from giving the Ministry our descriptions."

* * *

Harry looked up in surprise as Millie ran back into the kitchen, slamming the door behind her.

Miss Capon was also surprised, and expressed that as she asked, "Millicent, what are you—"

Abruptly, the question was answered, although not in a way that Miss Capon totally understood, as the space under the door was illuminated by several different colors in succession, and the door itself shook slightly.

Now, the question changed to "What is going on?"

Millie gasped, out of breath, "Harry…they're trying to…get Harry."

"Get Harry? Whatever do you mean?" asked Miss Capon.

Harry himself, however, had a pretty good idea of what Millie meant. "Are they Death Eaters?"

"Maybe…probably." Millie paused to catch her breath, glancing at the door a few times. "One of them had the crest of the Rowles on his robe."

"What kind of game are you two playing now?" Miss Capon asked. "I thought you two knew better than playing games in my kitchen."

"It's not a—" Millie's denial was proven moot when the door shuddered, and then abruptly shattered into a dozen pieces.

"Get down," shouted Harry, pushing Miss Capon behind a counter and following suit. Millie ducked behind a pile of pots on the floor by the sink.

Multiple spells flew by, hitting the back wall but fortunately missing all three occupants of the kitchen. As one pot which had been hanging on that wall hit the ground, split in half by a Cutting Curse, it was clear that the Death Eaters were not concerned with the health of the people inside.

"Run!" Millie shouted, as she ran across the room during a brief lull in the spells. Between them, Harry and Millie managed to drag the shocked Miss Capon out of the kitchen into the cafeteria. Fortunately, just after lunchtime, the cafeteria was entirely deserted. Unfortunately, it was a big room, and Harry didn't think that they'd be able to make it out without the Death Eaters hitting them with spells.

"We need to get my mother," Millie said. "I don't know how, though."

"What about the police?" Miss Capon said. "You said these people want to kidnap Harry. Well, that means we need to call the police."

Harry shook his head. "These aren't people the police can deal with," he said. Turning to Millie, he asked, "Does your mother have a telephone in the house?"

Millie first shook her head, but then hesitated. "Actually yes. Mr. Reilly called her once, that first time I got in trouble for helping you. After that he always just sent me with a note. I don't know the number, though."

Miss Capon looked at the pair of children. "Just what is going on here?" she asked, sternly. The slight waver in her tone gave the lie to her studied calm.

Harry wasn't sure how much to tell the cafeteria worker. Obviously anything he said would be breaking the Statute of Secrecy, and given the discussion he'd had with Millie's mother just this morning, he didn't think he wanted to do that. On the other hand…a spell impacting the opposite wall and leaving a rather startlingly sized hole reminded him that at this point, the Statute of Secrecy didn't really apply.

Luckily, Millie made the decision for him. "They're bad guys," she said. "I don't know what they want, but it's definitely not good."

Miss Capon was starting to shake a little, worrying Harry. "I think the shattered door and the hole in the wall told me that much, thank you, Ms. Bulstrode," she said, her voice shrill. "But what are they doing?"

Millie was saved the difficulty of answering by the sudden and ominous stop to the flow of curses.

"We should make a break for the door," Harry whispered.

"But if they're in the kitchen, they'll see us," Millie said, her voice cracking slightly.

Unfortunately, when the trio had ran out of the kitchen, they had, in their panic, ended up on the opposite side of the cafeteria from the doors. Even worse, the kitchen was laid out with a large opening into the cafeteria, where the food was handed out to the children.

"Well they'll see us here, if we don't move," Harry retorted. "We're just standing here."

"You're right," admitted Millie.

Harry began moving towards the center of the room with a vague notion of sprinting across the cafeteria before the Death Eaters got to the room. That plan was immediately ended by the appearance of five wizards through the doorway from the kitchen.

"What do you think you're doing?" asked Miss Capon, standing up straight despite her obvious fear. "This is a school, and I don't know what you're trying to…"

One of the wizards made a movement with his wand, and Miss Capon flew to the side, hitting the wall with a thud that made Harry wince.

Harry stared at the wizards in fear, stepping back until he was next to Millie. He could feel her shaking next to him, clearly as frightened as he.

"What do you want?" asked Millie, bravely. "You stay away from Harry."

"We'll do what we want, filthy Muggle," one wizard sneered.

Turning to Harry, the wizard in the lead looked him up and down. "This?" he asked, incredulously. "This is what stopped the Dark Lord?"

Harry didn't know what to say to that. _He _didn't remember it, didn't know what had happened. It's not like he chose to stop the darkest wizard ever.

"How did you do it, boy?"

"I d-dunno," he stammered, feeling scared, and ashamed of it. He doubted his parents had been this scared when You-Know-Who had come after them.

"That's not a good answer, _Boy-Who-Lived_," the wizard said, biting out the words. He raised his wand. "_Crucio_."

Suddenly Harry felt pain throughout his body. It was like nothing he had ever felt before. He couldn't think, couldn't move, could barely breathe. All he could feel was the pain that was coursing through his body. Every part of his body felt like it was on fire, there wasn't a single…

"Stop!"

Harry gasped for breath as the pain ended. He opened his eyes warily, and realized that somehow there was not a crack straight down the middle of his left lens. How had he ended up on the ground, anyway. He thought he was standing up?

"Stay away from Harry!"

Harry tried to focus his eyes on the scene in front of him. All he could see was the back of Millie's costume, where she stood in front of him.

He heard laughter. "She's brave, for a Muggle," sneered a voice. "Well, if you want to suffer too, we'll be happy to oblige you. _Crucio_."

Millie crumpled to the ground in front of him, screaming in pain. Harry winced in the memory of that pain, which he had experienced not a few seconds before. He could barely move, but he started crawling towards his best friend.

What could he do? He could barely think, with the memory of that pain still enfusing his bodies and muddling his brain. He reached out his arm to Millie, catching her hand in his. Her screaming—

Acting on instinct, Harry rolled himself over Millie, purposely putting his body between her and the wizards. All of a sudden, Millie stopped screaming, but Harry barely realized that as he began feeling the curse in her stead.

After what seemed like an eternity, the pain stopped. Harry focused on the warmth of Millie's palm in his, ignoring the laughter of the wizards standing above them. He couldn't stop shaking.

Harry opened his eyes, carefully, and found that this time he had lost his glasses entirely. He could barely see Millie as more than a blob, and couldn't see the Death Eaters at all, except as ominous looking clouds of black.

"_Stupefy."_


End file.
